For All The Wrong Reasons
by gooseles
Summary: Memphis Kramer has made her way to the top of a male dominated business.Beautiful but tough, she meets her match in the Viper. Is her dream worth it? Can a line be drawn between love and hate when landing the good guy only makes you want the bad guy more?
1. The Welcome Wagon

Memphis Kramer made her way through the back of the XL Center in Hartford, Connecticut. Straight from the WWE offices in Stamford, the black ink was still dry on the contract she had just finalized. It was a life long dream that had just come true and she had earned it. Her dream had always been to work for Vince McMahon and the world's most infamous sports entertainment brand but her life had almost taken a different turn. She had grown up in Orlando, Florida and had always been a professional wrestling fan for as long as she could remember. Always athletic, she had been an avid participant in every sport from field hockey to basketball to volleyball. She loved anything physical and had excelled in it. After high school, she had gone to college on a full scholarship to Florida State University. Afterwards, she had pursued a law degree at Washington and Lee in Virginia. Shortly after graduation, she had relocated to Long Island where she had gone to work at a firm that specialized in environmental law. It was a career and the money was good but it wasn't what Memphis wanted to do with her life. Her heart and soul was elsewhere, still with the dream she'd had ever since she was a kid. Against the advice of her colleagues, friends, family and her own better judgement, she had left her promising law career to pursuse her true passion.

She went to whatever Indy federation would give her the time of day. Most laughed in her face, slammed the door or both but Memphis was determined. She traveled as far as Mexico to gain all the experience she could. She worked for sometimes less that $20.00 a show and after a year on the circuit traveling all over, with her savings account diminishing as fast as her hope, she finally received the call she had been waiting for, the one she never thought would come. She had made a name for herself and that name had gotten back to the WWE headquarters. The Man himself, Vincent McMahon had heard of her and he was interested. It was unique…different and he was constantly evolving his brand. Memphis Kramer would be just what the company needed.

It had all happened so fast. A few scouts from Talent Relations had come out to take a look at her in action. Impressed, they had reported back to Corporate and after viewing several more of her tapes, Memphis had been invited to an in person meeting. She had tried to make the best impression possible and after three agonizing weeks without any word, finally good news came. She was in. Early on a Saturday morning, a shiny, black Lincoln had showed up outside her modest rental home and whisked her away to Stamford. Waiting for her were a few of the corporation's executives followed by an attorney appointed to help her sort out the details of the contract. For Memphis, there was nothing to sort out. This was what she wanted, what she had been waiting for. She scrawled her name on the pages and just minutes later was back in the car headed to Hartford. A house show was starting that night at 8 p. Memphis was on the card.

She didn't have time to be nervous…the moment was too surreal.

Flashing her newly acquired credentials, she made her way backstage to the private area where she was to get ready. Her head turned to the right to see if the room she had just passed was where she was supposed to be. In doing so she had failed to pay much attention to what was in front of her or rather who. She slammed into something that felt like a mack truck but it wasn't. Grimmacing, she looked up to see six foot four inches, 245 pounds of pure steel. A pair of icy blue eyes stared down at her, lips pursed into a permanent scowl.

Their eyes met and she got a glance of what had just happened. It was her first run in with a WWE Superstar. Standing in front of her was the man known as the Viper, the World Champion, the third generation phenomenon known as Randy Orton. Memphis tried to never miss a RAW or Smackdown televised event. She was well aware of who the man was that she had just clumsily bumped into.

"Hey," she said awkwardly after a few seconds of him just staring at her. "Are you okay?"

He looked her over, up and down, twice to be exact.

"You really should watch where you're going."

Memphis was slightly taken aback. She was a fan, one of those fans who followed the gossip on the Internet dirt sheets. It was no secret that Randy Orton had a reputation backstage. In real life he was a lot like his character…aggressive, ruthless, and cold. If she ever had to wonder if the rumors were true, the answer was frowning right in front of her.

"Excuse me?" she asked in disbelief.

He stepped closer, his stance becoming more towering and threatening by the second. She recognized that move, it was the same one he used night after night on television to frighten and intimidate his opponents.

"You heard what I said," speaking slow and deliberate in a deep tone. "Watch where you're going."

"It was an accident," she tried to explain.

"Yeah? Well accidents wouldn't happen if you paid more attention."

Memphis chewed the inside of her lip. She was a female making her way up the ladder of an entirely male dominated business. She had been discriminated against before. Some of the ribs directed towards her were slightly more vicious and humiliating than the ones directed towards her male counterparts. She expected some backlash but an accidental run in during her first five minutes in the arena her first night on the job, had taken a sudden turn.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't let it happen again."

The last thing she wanted to do was cause problems or make waves but she had met a lot of Randy Orton types in her day. They were bullies and the only way to ensure any peace was to stand up to him and let him know that it was not okay to run over her.

"Look, I'm sorry I bumped into you, okay? It was an accident and it was my fault but that doesn't give you the right to be a jerk to me. You act like it's World War III or some other tragedy. I barely bumped you and believe me, I think I took the brunt of most of the force. It's not that big of a deal, can we just drop it?"

Randy's face tightened. It was clear that he was not used to people standing up to him like that. He clenched his fists and the veins on his long, tattoed arms bulged. If he was good looking on TV, that sentiment could be multiplied times ten in person. The angrier he got, the better looking he got, and fuming as he engaged in a staring contest with the company's newest employee, he was looking pretty hot.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

A pang of fear and nerves washed over Memphis. This was not how her first night was supposed to start. But she was too far into it now. She couldn't turn back or show any signs of backing down.

"Who are you?" she shot back.

That trademark smirk appeared over his thin, sexy lips.

"Are you serious right now? I'm Randy Orton."

She nodded.

"Memphis Kramer and I work here," she flashed her bag. "Not how I expected my first night to begin but things happen, I guess."

He folded his massive arms.

"You're a wrestler…no, let me guess, eye candy, a new Diva, right?"

Memphis felt a wave of heat flush across her face. The WWE employed some of the most beautiful women in the world as Divas. It was kind of flattering that he would even consider she could be in the same category as those women.

"No. Actually, I'm…"

"Never mind," he cut her off. "It's not important anyway. It's your first day and judging by your attitude, you won't be around here too much longer. In the meantime, watch yourself."

With that, he brushed past her, his broad and muscular shoulder nearly knocking her off balance. Stunned, Memphis could only stand there. She had always dreamed of working for the WWE and what her first night would be. Now she had a taste of it and it had left behind a bitter flavor in her mouth.

"Ah, Ms. Kramer. I see you've made it."

Memphis instantly stood a little taller. It was Vince McMahon approaching her.

"Mr. McMahon…hi. Um, it's nice to see you again, sir. I, I wasn't expecting you."

"I come to all the house shows in Connecticut and the surrounding areas and I travel to every Monday night RAW."

"Really? I didn't know."

"This is my baby and I like to stay involved. I don't do too many on air appearances these days but I'm always watching. I built this company from the ground up. The talent is what makes the WWE. I only hire the best, what is appealing to the WWE Universe. When my stars rise it is a direct reflection on me…when my stars fail, I fire them," he grinned. "Because that is also a direct reflection on me. Anything with my name on, I take very seriously."

Memphis swallowed hard. She couldn't tell if he was joking or being serious but she was interested in finding out.

"I see," she managed to say.

"Do you feel prepared for your match tonight?" he asked.

A smile crept to her lips.

"I am. It's exciting. I can't wait. And the Main Event at that. I was kind of shocked, I wasn't expecting that."

"It's a house show, non televised, but still very important. It's basically a chance for me to see what you're really made of. I've seen you in the Indys and I was quite impressed. But this is not the Indys, Miss Kramer. This is the WWE, the big leagues. If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. Tonight is sink or swim."

"I know," she said, the bundle of nerves tightening in her stomach.

"I don't want to scare you by any means. I want you to do well and I believe you will. If I didn't have that intuition or faith, I wouldn't have hired you. You'll be fine tonight."

"Thank you, sir."

"Go ahead, get ready, get familiar with your surroundings, mingle…have you met any of the talent yet?"

"Yeah," she made a face. "Randy Orton."

Vince smiled.

"That was an experience, I'm sure. Anyway, have a good night and I will see you after the show."

She nodded and scurried off to get ready. Her heart pounded as she changed into her ring attire. Standing in front of the full length mirror, she pulled her chestnut brown hair into a bun. She put on eyeliner and masacar and a coat of lip gloss. She was about to make her debut in front of thousands of people and it was now or never.

The show started and she listened in from backstage. It was a three hour show with a brief intermission halfway through. As the clock ticked down, Memphis found herself getting more and more nervous. Eventually she found herself head first in a nearby trash can but she quickly brushed her teeth and refrshed her makeup. Once the nerves were out of the way, she was ready to go. She stepped out into the Gorilla and waited.

"The following match is your Main Event," Howard Finkel spoke into the microphone as the fans cheered. "The contest is set for one fall…"

That was her cue. A PA ushered her out and Memphis made her way down the ramp. The fans had never seen her before and they whispered and looked on with curiosity. She strolled with confidence and hopped up onto the apron, slipping through the bottom two ropes before the Fink had the chance to hold the ropes for her. She stood in the middle of the ring and waited. The nerves were gone. She was in her element.

"…Introducing first, from Dublin Ireland, the challenger, weighing in at 272 pounds and standing six foot six inches tall, Sheamus!"

His music played and the pale but handsome Irishman made his way down the aisle to the frenzied boos of the WWE Universe. He stepped into the ring and looked over at Memphis. He gave a confused look, then a shrug but quickly melted back into character.

"…And his opponent, from St. Louis Missouri, he is the WWE Champion, the Viper, Randy Orton!"

The lights dimmed and "Voices" began to play. As Memphis stared at the man approaching her for the second time that night, chills rushed through her body. He sauntered to the ring admist the cheers and walked around before making his way to the ropes and standing in that classic RKO pose. As the lights came back on and he walked to the center of the ring, his eyes met Memphis'. The shock on his face almost made her giggle. He couldn't believe it but his disdain from earlier was still evident.

"Not exactly a Diva or a wrestler but close enough, right?" she whipered to him.

Now it was her time to smirk.

"And making her debut tonight, officiating the Main Event, is WWE's newest referee, Memphis Kramer."

The crowd slowly cheered and the bell rang as Memphis took her position. Things were about to get interesting.


	2. The Good Life

The bus pulled up to the back of the arena in Portland, Oregon. It came to a slow stop at the side entrance as the driver, Frank, looked back at his passenger and employer.

"We're here, ."

Randy barely looked up. Grabbing his bags, he stood up and exited the bus without so much as a thank you, good bye or any other acknowledgement. He made his way into the venue and as he did, the other WWE employees quickly dispersed. The Viper's reputation preceded him and others found it best to just stay out of his way. He was one of the most talented and popular Superstars but it came at a price. Some wrestlng A listers were referred to as the "conscience of the WWE" or the "soul of the WWE". If that was the case, Randal Keith Orton could be referred to as the "terror of the WWE".

He was fresh off the lastest suspension, his second that year, this time a 7 day stint, punishment for his offensive behavior of calling the Divas "cunts". He had been fined several times for his verbal slip ups but to a man making over two million dollars a year with the company, a few thousand here and there was nothing. He was tolerated but not well liked and he didn't care. As far as he was concerned, he was invincible…no one could touch him. Skating on thin ice, he had finally been ordered by the WWE to seek psychiatric treatment weekly in order to iron out any "mental issues". To Randy that was a joke as well. He went to the appointments whenever he felt like and skipped them at a moment's notice. When he did go, he particularly enjoyed terrorizing the therapist or playing mind games by not speaking for the entire hour. After all, it was on Vince McMahon's dime not his own.

Randy Orton was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any given second, his actions often unpredictable and volatile. It was a true shame for one with so much promise. Born April 1, 1980 in Knoxville, Tennesse, he was the first born child of WWE Hall of Famer "Cowboy" Bob Orton and his wife, Elaine. Sister Becky and little brother Nathan had come along later. Their grandfather and uncle had been wrestlers as well so he had been bitten by the bug at an early age. Some of his first memories including playing around the dinner table with the likes of legends like the Junkyard Dog and Andre the Giant. A standout amatuer wrestler at Hazelwood Central High School in, he had graduated in 1998. His parents had hoped he would go to college after years of discouraging him of entering the business. Rebellious, he had instead joined the United States Marine Corp.

Randy had quickly found out that the Corp was not for him. Too proud to admit to the Old Man that he had made a mistake, he stuck with it as long as possible. After going AWOL and disobeying several orders, he had finally been driven over the edge by a single incident that had haunted him every day since. They were the nightmares that made him afraid to go to sleep, the ones that made him wake up screaming in a cold sweat. The second AWOL landed him a special court martial that resulted in 38 days in military prision as well as a bad conduct discharge.

Two years later he debuted professionally at a local St. Louis promotion. In 2001 he was signed under a developmental contract with the WWE and after performing in Ohio Valley Wrestling, the rest had been history. His rise had been swift and it seemed destined. He had quickly climbed the ladder of success and one push had helped him becomes the youngest world champion on WWE history. It was also during that time that he met another young talent who would become one his best friends and one of the few stabalizing forces in his life…John Cena.

The friendship was solid and John was one of the few people who understood Randy and knew how to deal with him. He also didn't take his bullshit and that had established a mutual respect over the years. When everyone else in the locker room had tired of him and prayed that one of the many suspensions would lead to termination, it was John who was always in his corner, desperately trying to help his friend get on the path of the straight and narrow, a feat sometimes too difficult even for Super Cena.

Carrying his gym bag, Randy sat it inside the locker room and began to slink down the corridors of the hall. He knew he had missed a staff meeting but it was too early to start getting ready for the show. He was bored and usually that meant trouble for everyone else. Looking for something to get into or someone to piss off, he smiled when he found his first victim. Victoria Crawford was better known to the WWE Universe by her ring name, Alicia Fox. She was a nice girl and for Randy, an easy target. He found her stretching, presumably warming up for her match later that evening.

"What's up with you?" he stood over her, tattooed arms folded, permanent smirk etched across his handsome face.

She looked up before quickly looking away.

"What does it look like? I'm trying to get ready for tonight, Orton. What do you want?"

"Whoa, whoa," he put both hands up in a defensive manner. "What's with the attitude? No need to get all testy. I was just coming by to say hi and wish you luck for tonight."

She raised one suspicious, perfectly arched eyebrow.

"You're wishing me luck? Why? What's the catch?"

"There is no catch. You sound surprised," he pretended to be hurt. "What? I'm a nice guy."

She wasn't buying the act for a second. In fact, his mere presence made her uncomfortable. He wasn't a good guy and him being around meant he was up to something undoubtely no good. Victoria wanted no part of it.

"Well thanks."

He continued to stand around. She tried her best to ignore him, hoping, praying that he would jusy go away and find someone else to mess with. No such luck. Pretending he wasn't ogling her, she continued her workout. As she bent over for a side stretch, his blue eyes twinkled as they followed the near perfect form of her ass.

"Damn. What a view."

She quickly stood.

"Would you stop? Please."

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me like you want me on your plate. That's rude."

"Why? Does that make you uncomfortable?" he took a few more steps closer.

Randy knew it did and that was the whole point. He loved when his very presence intimidated people. He got off on their fear.

"Actually, it does."

"We wouldn't want that, now would we?" he leaned over and breathed into her ear. "In fact, I want you to be nice and relaxed for later."

"What happens later?"

"You know…you, me, your hotel room or mine…I'll be a gentleman and let you choose."

She huffed. There was absolutely nothing gentlemanly about Randy Orton.

"That will never happen."

"Never say never," he inched closer, touching her arm. "Besides, I always thought you were a fan of the white meat, at least that's what I heard."

"Randy, leave me alone. That's disgusting."

Her eyes were wide and she was nervous. The fun was just beginning.

"Hey man, are you deaf?"

Randy frowned before turning around to face the person who owned the voice that had just interrupted his little game.

"Cena."

Just like the Golden Boy to arrive and save the day. Randy felt just like he did in the ring in one of the scripted moments when in the middle of a sinister promo, "My Time Is Now" would blare over the speakers and the People's Champ would run down the ramp to thunderous applause to confront the WWE champ.

"Everything okay here, Victoria?" John asked.

She nodded, breathing a sigh of relief that an eqaulizer had shown up.

"It is now," she took the opportunity to escape.

Randy laughed out loud as she scurried down the hall.

"Randy, what the hell are you doing, man?" John just shook his head. "What is wrong with you?"

"I was just having a little innocent fun until you had to come and screw everything up like usual."

"Screw everything up? You mean by saving your sorry ass from a possible sexual harrassment claim?"

Randy shrugged.

"Yeah right. That bitch doesn't have the balls."

"Dude, you seriously need to calm down. You just came off of one suspension. Another one and that might be it…seriously. Can we have just one night without any trouble?"

"Suit yourself," Randy began walking away, John hot on his heels.

"You missed the meeting with Creative tonight. Everyone was supposed to be here by two."

"So?"

"So Vince was pissed. Don't worry, I saved your ass and made up some excuse about your bus having mechanical trouble or some shit like that so try to stick to the story."

"Whatever."

"You're welcome."

"I didn't ask you for any favors."

John rolled his eyes.

"I'm gonna ignore that one. Anyway, you got a promo at the beginning of RAW tonight. Then you're in the Main Event with Stu. The rest you can go over with the guys."

"Great. I see we're still harping on the same tired ass Nexus angle."

"The fans love it. It's different and it works."

Randy ignored his friend, instead patting the pockets of his jeans, obviously looking for something.

"Where the hell are my smokes?" he wondered out loud.

"Those things are gonna kill you, besides it doesn't look good for one of the top guys in the company to be caught in public smoking. There's a YouTube video of you bumming cigrettes from fans outside an arena."

"So? They were happy to give them up, besides it saved me a trip to the store," Randy said as he found the rumpled pack.

"Randy…"

"I'll leave all that role model bullshit up to you. I come here and do my job and I do a hell of a job. Kissing babies and smiling for pics with Grandma is for the birds. I'll leave that to you. That's your thing."

There was just no reasoning with Randy and John wondered sometimes why he even bothered.

"I've got to get ready for own match. I'll see you around, man."

They slapped hands.

"Later."

"Oh, I almost forgot. Vince wants to see you."

"About?" Randy gave an annoyed look.

Then it was John's turn to smirk.

"Probably about Hannah Wilson if I was a betting man."

Randy's face instantly tightened.

"Not that stupid bitch again," he mumbled out loud.

"Hey, those are the breaks. Next time be a little more selective about who you pick up and take to bed on the road," John teased.

"You're one to talk," he muttered as his friend walked away, laughing all the way down the hall.

Shaking his head, Randy pulled the cigarette from his mouth. The last thing he needed or wanted as a lecture from Vince. In order to prepare for that, he was going to need something a lot heavier than nicotine. He ducked into one of the janitorial closets and pulled the small plastic baggie from his pocket. He smiled a real smile when he took a look at the small amount of bud inside of it. It wasn't a lot but just enough to do the trick and take the edge off. Besides, he liked smoking weed right before a show and right before hooking up with a ring rat. It always put him in a good mood. Putting the pot in his miniature hand held bowl, he lit it and inhaled slowly, not even caring as the distinct smell seeped out from under the doorway in a cloud of smoke. Closing his eyes, he sank back into his high. He was toking up, getting ready to wrestle and kick ass in front of millions and after that, he would pick out the first pretty girl willing to give it up to him. Yeah life was pretty sweet. It was the good life and it was his life.


	3. How Much Does A Dream Cost?

_**Author's Note: I do not own Randy Orton, the WWE or any affiliated wrestling entity. I do own the original characters. This story is fiction and intended for entertainment purposes only.**_

Memphis smiled as she watered her plants. From the time she was a little girl, she had always had a secret passion for horticulture. Plants of all kinds adorned the inside of her home. It had been almost a week since she had been home and her babies had suffered, wilting away from lack of water, love and attention. Not that she could complain though. She was working for the WWE as the first full time sanctioned female referee. She was making history and living out a lifelong dream. All her hard work had paid off. Finally she had made it to the place where she was trying to get to her whole life.

Opening the refrigerator door, she frowned as her eyes searched the shelves for something edible. Memphis was never much of a cook anyway and it was more than evident that a return trip to the grocery store was well overdue. Sighing, she closed the door and grabbed a nearby copy of the Yellow Pages to see what was available in the area for takeout before she could make it to the store. A knock on the door interreupted her search.

"Who is it?" Memphis called out.

"Who the hell do you think? It's not like you have a revolving door of visitors."

Memphis smiled. She'd know that voice anywhere. It could only be only one person. April Lowe.

"Well, hello to you too," Memphis opened the door.

On the other side was the pretty and tanned lifelong New Yorker with the stylishly cut dark brown hair, loud accented mouth and heart of gold. The two women were a lot alike and had met the day Memphis had walked into April's salon in Bar Harbor the first week she had moved to the Island. They had clicked and had been close ever since.

"Thanks bitch for letting me know you were back in town," April hugged her best friend before inviting herself in. "You don't know how to use a phone? I had to drive by and see all the lights and stuff on."

"Who knew you would miss me so much? Sorry, I just got in," Memphis laughed.

"No excuse. I think the whole celebrity thing is totally going to your head. Your ego is out of control."

"Oh yeah. That's definitely me, Little Miss Ego. I'm such a big star. You didn't see the papparazzi hiding out in the bushes?"

April smiled.

"Seriously kid, I missed you. How have you been?"

Memphis grabbed two Diet Pepsis for herself and her friend, the only thing she had to drink in the house. She took a seat on the couch and sat with her feet tucked comfortably underneath her.

"Good. Um, things are really great."

"Really? How is it? I want to know all about it."

"Which part?" Memphis giggled.

"All of it. Don't leave anything out, you know how nosy I am anyway. Tell me all about the road, the wrestlers, the fans, the job…"

"I love it. It's exciting. It's so awesome. The travel is insane…oh my God, it is so intense. You fly out to one city, check in a hotel, do a show, get a few hours of sleep and then you're renting a car and driving on to the next place. It's exhausting but I won't complain. How cool is that to get to see the world on a daily basis?"

"Tell me, have you met John Cena yet?"

Memphis lauged out loud.

"And how do you know who John Cena is?"

"I know he's fine as hell. I've got cable, girl, I watched The Marine. His ass could give me CPR any day. And did you see how he carried his wife to bed and kicked the door in at the beginning of the movie? Damn, I needed to soak my whole body in a bucket of ice water after that one."

"You are a nut."

"Well, have you?"

"We were introduced."

"Did you sleep with him? Are you gonna sleep with him?"

"No and no," Memphis laughed. "We met, he said hi, I said hi, he went about his business and we haven't talked since. Sorry to disappoint you, kid but I just don't see any marriage plans for us in our near or distant future."

"Too bad. I just know that this whole wrestling thing is your dream. I didn't really understand it at first but I get it, or at least I'm trying to. I just wanted to see what the big deal is, what the hype is about so I started watching."

"Really?" Memphis raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. It's the least I can do."

"So what do you think so far? Do you like it?"

April shrugged.

"It's okay. The guys are hot and I suppose the storylines are entertaining. And that whole anonymous GM thing on RAW is classic. I love that little sound it makes when he sends the e-mail."

"You watching RAW…wow, that will defintely take a minute for me to get over that one."

"Speaking of, I watched for you on Monday night but you weren't on. Where were you?"

"I was in the building, just not on TV. Haven't graduated to the big leagues yet. Right now I'm doing dark matches…"

"What's that?" 

"Matches that aren't televised." Memphis explained. "And house shows. No RAW yet unfortunately but hopefully soon. I did make it onto Superstars. That comes on Thursday nights if you ever want to check it out. I refereed a tag team match this week. It was taped."

"For sure. I'm just glad to see that you look so happy. When you gave up the big bucks at the firm, everyone thought you were crazy, including me. But you're chasing a dream and I respect that. That's the only way to make a dream come true is to go after it. This life certainly doesn't just hand you anything. You worked hard for what you wanted."

"Now it's finally starting to pay off."

"That must have been a big shock for all the wrestlers and employees backstage when Vince hired you. I mean, a female referee. A hot female referee at that?"

"It was a shock. I think everybody was genuinely surprised, especially the fans. Nobody really knew how to take it."

"Are you gonna wear sexy referee clothes? I had an idea. Maybe you could spice it up, you know, get rid of those stuffy black pants and godawful striped shirts. What about sexy boots and a halter? I bet we could find some funky outfits in the Village…"

"Hold your horses, kid. As cute as that sounds, I'm gonna have to pass on that one. Sorry."

"Memphis!"

"I don't want to be a novelty or passing fad in this company. I'm here now so the next goal is longevity. Dressing sexy won't accomplish that. I would be drawing attention to myself for all the wrong reasons. I want people to respect me based on what I do not how I look."

April nodded.

"I get that. Makes sense. I know you want to be taken seriously."

"We've got a long way to go on that one but it's the plan," Memphis mumbled under her breath, taking a sip of soda.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not complaining. I have no reason to. It's the WWE for pete's sake. But even though it's awesome, there are some parts of it that aren't what I expected at all. I don't know, I just thought it would be different."

"Like? What do you mean?"

"You know how you hear all the time that it's just like a family and everybody gets along and they welcome the newcomers and blah, blah, blah?"

April rolled her eyes.

"Let me guess, it's a bunch of bullshit, right? Memphis, you know better than that. That's so goddamned cliché, it's what you're supposed to say but that's never the way it really is. Actors say it about movie sets when they know good and well that so and so was a diva and made everybody miserable. We say the same thing about the shop on our website and you know that Nicole, the one with the bad dye job, is a psycho slut with a big mouth that nobody can stand."

Memphis chuckled.

"I guess so."

"Are they mean to you or something?"

"No, not really. They're not exactly nice, you could say that."

"Who?"

"Everybody. The wrestlers, the other referees…especially the other referees. They think I'm a joke."

"Then you're just gonna have to prove them wrong."

"Girl, that's exactly what I intend to do. This is my dream, my time and I'm not gonna let anyone ruin it or run me away even though one asshole in particular tried to my first night."

"Who?" 

"Randy Orton," Memphis rolled her eyes.

April tried to think for a moment.

"Randy Orton, Randy Orton…the one with the tattoo sleeves? He's the Champion."

"That would be the one and only."

"He's sexy."

"He's a jerk. I bumped into him accidentally and he made a federal case about it. He was so rude, you wouldn't believe it. He went on and on and got in my face and was trying to intimidate me. It was so ridiculous but I wasn't surprised. Besides everybody says he's a dick backstage."

"You'll just have to let his undeniable sexiness make up for it. Who knows, maybe one day one of your arguments will lead to red hot, passionate, kinky, angry monkey sex in the middle of an empty ring before a show. That would be awesome."

"Um, not it wouldn't, number one and number two, your imagination scares me," Memphis laughed. "I don't think that's a likely scenario. He is hot but he is such a prick that I wouldn't want him touching me with a ten foot pole."

"Give him my number then," April joked.

"Now that would be an interesting pairing. He would meet his match in you."

"You're not exactly a punk, either. At least tell me you stood up to the guy."

"I did which pissed him off even more but I don't care."

"Good for you. I'm proud of you. You're tough."

"I have to be to be in this business."

"You've had to be the whole time to get what you want."

"What can I say? I love it. April, it's hard to explain but it's seriously the best thing ever. It's a different crowd, a different arena, a different city every night. The fans are pumped and the energy…it's just insane. It's amazing. For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted to be a part of that world. When I watch from backstage in the Gorilla position or walk down that ramp…the feeling is indescribable but I feel whole like I've finally found my home. That's a feeling I never had before, not in college or in any courtroom. This is what I want to do with my life. I worked damn hard to get here and I'm not going to let anyone or anything stop me or ruin it or stand in my way."

"Well good for you. Keep your head up. Everything is going to work out, it's going to be okay. Pretty soon you'll be officiating the main event on RAW and at pay per view's all over the world. Your co-workers will come around. You grow on people and once they get to know you, they'll love you."

"It's cool. I'd like that to happen but if it doesn't, I'm totally okay with it," Memphis tried to shrug it off.

She was a strong woman, one who often hid her true emotions. The last thing she wanted was for people to perceive her as weak but beneath the tough exterior was a fragile heart. She did care what people thought of her. She did want them to accept her, like her even. She had done the unthinkable and stood up to the likes of The Viper, Randy Orton but their confrontation had left her shaking and dreading anything similar. It was hard but it was the price of her dream, one she was more than willing to pay.

"So how long you home for this time?"

"A whole two days, then I'm back on the road for a whole week. Vince wants me to watch both RAW and Smackdown events from backstage to get more familiar with everything and more comfortable."

"Sounds exciting but I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too, hon."

"Want to do dinner and drinks later tonight?"

"Of course."

Memphis smiled. It was nice to be home among real friends. It used to be her norm but she had voluntarily traded in that normalcy for a new life, one that was exciting, rewarding and fun but could be incredibly lonely. And she wasn't willing to trade it for anything in the world.


	4. Sorry But You Just Don't Clique

Memphis Kramer slowly made her way to the back of the small auditorium. Butterflies filled her stomach as she prepared to open the double doors. It was her first full on staff meeting as a WWE employee, one where all the execs from Creative would attend along with every single RAW and Smackdown talent. Vince McMahon would be the main speaker as he always was at what was called the Town Hall meetings. It was a big deal and no matter what, Memphis could not get her nerves under control for some reason. The meeting was scheduled for 3:30 p.m. and she had decided to be early and arrive 15 minutes prior. Beneath her confident exterior and devil may care attitude, she was self conscious and the last thing she wanted was extra attention on herself. As much as she hated to admit it, things hadn't been going as well as she had wanted in the WWE. Though buzz about her was already trending throughout the WWE Universe via the Internet, she had yet to referee a match outside of a house show or Superstars. She was booked for the RAW brand but hadn't seen air time for it or for Smackdown and that was disappointing.

One thing she had noticed since joining the WWE was how the employees interacted with each other. It didn't remind her of a family, in fact it reminded her of high school. There were several cliques and everyone seemed to stick together. Cliques traveled together, ate together and hung out backstage together. The crew stuck with the crew. Couples stayed together or sometimes with other couples. The bitchy Divas hung together while the nicer, more down to earth ones hung out. Veteran wrestlers hung together as did the new guys and so on and so forth. The other big clique consisted of the referees. There were eight men to be exact, veterans and rookies…Mike Chioda, John Cone, Jack Doan, Charles Robinson, Chad Patton, Aaron "Goose" Mahoney, Justin King and Rod Zapata.

They hadn't been rude to her. In fact no one had with the exception of Randy Orton on that first night. But as she had explained to April, no one has exactly gone out of their way to be nice or welcoming. People said hi upon the initial introduction and it pretty much stopped there. Memphis was used to dealing with that kind of crap on the Indepednent scene but she had been naïve enough to think that maybe things would change once she reached the professional wrestling Promised Land known as the WWE. But it had only gotten progressively worse. She wasn't looking for a BFF but a little common courtesy would have been nice. She had worked hard to gain everyone's respect yet she was still viewed as a joke, a fad, a novelty, a gimmick.

The loneliness was hard but Memphis' determination and strong will saw her through it. She remained optimistic that things would change, get better and in the meantime she would keep working her ass off until it did. The best way to prove herself was to keep on doing what she was doing and prove them all wrong. Traveling alone, eating alone and basically doing everything else alone afforded her the opportunity to think a lot during her down time and do a lot of soul searching. Every day was a different challenge and she could never forget why she was there. She had to keep her eyes on the prize at all times.

She had learned of the important Town Hall meeting via her Blackberry. It had been orginally scheduled for four 4:00 p.m. so Memphis had arrived at the location early enough to grab a bite to eat in Catering. She had been ignored when she walked in which was nothing new but she did notice one of the other referees, Goose eating alone. Making herself a salad, she sat and ate by herself, basically in her own world until the tall presence towering above her garnered her attention.

…

"_Memphis, right?"_

_She wiped her mouth with a napkin and took a swallow of iced lemon water._

"_Yeah…"_

_He smiled._

"_Goose," he extended his hand. "We met before but I was pretty busy so it wasn't really a proper introduction."_

_Memphis shook his hand._

"_Nice to meet you."_

"_I've been meaning to come talk to you, see how things have been going."_

"_Pretty good," she shrugged._

"_I caught your match on Superstars. You were good."_

"_Thanks."_

"_You're a natural in there, I was just wondering what made you choose that as a career path, instead of wrestling or being a valet."_

_It was a question she got often._

"_I always loved wrestling especially the WWE. I was really into the different moves and everything and realized early on just how important of a job the ref has. They are in the center of the action and that's where I wanted to be. It's just always something I wanted to do."_

"_Well welcome."_

"_Thank you."_

"_I guess I'll see you at the staff meeting later."_

"_Sure. It's my first one."_

"_They're not so bad. Vince and the others can get a little long winded at times but it's pretty cool. You know, me and the boys sit together…you're welcomed to join us."_

_By "other boys" she knew he meant referees._

"_Okay. Um, sounds good."_

"_Just find us. I'll save a seat for you."_

"_I appreciate it."_

"_Oh and you did get the memo that the time was changed, right?"_

_Memphis frowned._

"_No. No, I guess I didn't. What's the new time?"_

"_Just a half hour difference. 3:30."_

"_Okay. Well, thanks for telling me, Goose. I will see you there."_

…

Just that conversation and minor interaction made her feel that much better. It had even slightly calmed her nerves. Memphis had finished lunch alone before finding a private corner in the back of the venue to try to relax and read a novel. She had kept one eye on the time the entire while she sat there and had taken off a few minutes early to get there early. She was grateful Goose had given her the heads up on the time change. It would have been truly mortifying to walk into the meeting late.

She pulled back the double doors and expected to see a half empty room and her fellow referees saving a seat for her. Instead, Memphis got the surprise of a lifetime. Every seat as far as she could see was already filled and as the doors opened, they let out a loud embarrassing creak. Even worse, the meeting had already started and the boss, Vince McMahon himself was already at the podium speaking to his employees. Her entrance had single handedly stopped the action. Vince gave her a confused then stern look and a shocked Memphis felt her cheeks burn.

"Well, well, Miss Kramer, so nice of you to join us a half hour late," he called her out like he was the principal and she was the troublesome nuisance of a student. "Please find a seat."

With her head held high and doing her best to hide her embarrassment, she walked down the aisle with every single eye on her. To her right was the group of eight referees all sitting clustered together. The men exchanged knowing glances, barely able to contain their smirks and a few even chuckled out loud. Mortified and angry, Memphis was forced to sit front and center as she realized that she had just been had. Goose had obviously given her the wrong time, a half hour later, on purpose. It was common knowledge that wrestlers loved to rib each other but Memphis couldn't help but think that they were laughing at her instead of laughing with her. It had been a setup and she had reason to think it was more serious than the typical prank.

Vince continued as he went over several Corporate changes as well as Creative decisions. The meeting dragged on and on as Memphis shifted in her seat uncomfortably. The information being communicated was important but it was hard to focus or concentrate. Inside the ring, in front of the cameras and the fans, doing her job was where Memphis felt most comfortable, most at home. Any other time, she felt like a fish out of water.

"…And in closing, I would like to take this time to introduce and officially welcome the newest member of the WWE family. For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of meeting her, you certainly saw her tardy but grand entrance earlier this afternoon. Miss Memphis Kramer comes to us from Long Island and has an oustanding record as a referee in several Independent promotions. Her very presence here is history making and we are thrilled to have her so please make sure that she is welcomed. Especially to my other refs…Goose, Chad, Charles, Jack, John, Justin, Mike and Rod…look after her guys. Show her the ropes, take her under your wing."

They murmured and nodded and minutes later, the meeting finally adjourned. Embarrassed, she wanted nothing more than to make a quick getaway. The young woman had had enough of being the center of attention for one day. Again Memphis wasn't on the card for the show that evening but she was scheduled to just watch and learn, something she had been doing her whole life. She respected the ring and the other referees even though it was obvious that the feeling was not mutual. Heading back to the front of the arena, she passed by a corner where the referees had gathered together. They were whispering and talking, laughing out loud like school girls.

"Did you see the look on her face?" one of them asked.

"Absolutely classic," another chimed in.

Goose led the charge.

"Yeah, that was too easy. Like taking candy from a baby."

"But you heard what Vince said," Justin added. "We have to help her out."

"Bullshit."

"But those were his orders," Justin continued, much to the dismay and annoyance of the others. "Besides, remember when we were all new? She's gonna need some help."

"Then you go for it, King," Mike told him. "I am busy enough and I take too much pride in my career and worked too had to get here to spend or waste my valuable time babysitting some no talent broad."

"She's not that bad," Justin shrugged.

"What are you, sweet on her?" Charles teased him. "She is hot…"

"I give her 30 days," one said.

"Two weeks."

"She looks tough. Maybe three months."

"Yeah right, put your money where your mouth is."

Memphis stood stunned. The very people who were supposed to have her back, the ones who were supposed to be supporting her, teaching her and taking care of her were the ones taking bets on how long it would be before she got fired or quit. It was disheartening. It was hurtful. She swallowed hard and tried not to react but it was hard. Turning away, she looked up and happened to see none other than the Legend Killer himself. He was just a few feet away, tattooed arms folded, icy stare in his blue eyes. It was clear that he had heard everything the referees had been talking about. She stared at him, waiting for some kind of reaction and she got one. He looked right in her face and smirked, shaking his head as he gave a cold and heartless laugh.

"You know, I'd like to get in on that one. I've got five hundred big ones that says your ass is out of here in two months or less."

Staring her down, he walked off leaving Memphis all alone and feeling very much alone. A tiny part of her wanted to cry but she soon got it together. It was politics, the nature of the game, harsh treatment she was used to. As much as it sucked, she would just have to ignore the antics and her own hurt feelings and simply keep it moving. She had been doing it her whole career,why stop now?


	5. An Unlikely Ally

Memphis arrived at the arena for Monday Night RAW in Charleston, South Carolina. She had been practicing the fine but difficult art of staying positive all day. It was her fourth Monday Night RAW with the WWE and after a series of house shows and one stint on Superstars she was praying, hoping that she would get her big break on the big stage. It seemed like everyone in the world doubted her. The only way to prove herself was to get in that ring on live television and referee that match just as good as any of her male counterparts. All she was lacking was the chance.

Rushing to pick up the card and script that night from Production, Memphis' heart pounded with anticipation and excitement. As her eyes skimmed through the matches listed, her heart quickly sank. Once again, her name was nowhere to be found. Another night, another episode of RAW had begun and once again she had been left out in the cold. It was hard not to be disappointed. Sometimes she felt like Vince McMahon was the only one who believed in her but her lack of appearaces was beginning to make her think that maybe he did not.

"Tough break, huh?"

She looked up. It was her colleaguge Justin King.

"You could say that. It's alright, though."

Memphis kept a straight face, not letting him know, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how bad she was feeling at that moment.

"I just wanted to say, hang in there. It'll get better. You'll get your match."

"Excuse me?"

"I know what it's like. I've been in your shoes. I was refereeing down at FCW for years and I finally got the call for WWE and it seems like I waited for months before they actually let me do a live show. It gets tough. It's frustrating but it will get better. I just wanted you to know."

Memphis folded her arms. She couldn't believe his nerve.

"Are you being serious right now?"

He looked geuninely surprised.

"Yeah, I…"

"Sorry if I find it hard not to take you sincerely or seriously right now."

"What do you mean?"

"You guys have basically treated me like shit since I got here. The inspirational pep talk just seems a little unbelievable and misguided right now."

He looked down sheepishly at the ground.

"About that…yeah, that was kind of messed up. Look, the whole female referee thing is kind of new. It's different. It took everybody by surprise. I mean, we had heard about you in the Indys or whatever but nobody knew if it was a gimmick or what. Anyway, some of these guys have been working forever to get here and it's like you came out of nowhere and made it just because you're a woman, a good looking woman at that. I guess that's why a lot of the guys are standoffish. The wrestlers probably don't know what to think. They probably think that it is just another fad or gimmick. All I'm saying is, I know it's rough but people will come around. It will get better."

"And you're saying this because?" she raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged.

"Because I'm trying to be nice."

"Nice, huh?" she repeated. "Okay, well thank you. That is awfully nice of you, almost as nice as it was the day you guys placed bets on when I would crack and be out of here. What was your wager? Two months?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets. He had been trying to be genuine but in the past he had been wrong and she had called him out on his bad behavior. There was nothing else he could say or do.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed.

"I'm sure you are."

He looked around.

"Look, I have to get going. I know you probably don't believe me but it is what it is."

He opened his mouth to say more but the words didn't seem to formulate. After a few more seconds of intense and awkward eye contact, he walked away leaving her all alone. She had stood her ground with him, letting him know that he, they hadn't intimidated or gotten the best of her. Memphis knew how important it was to keep up that tough exterior but sometimes it was like it was one big façade. On the inside, she was crying, dying, struggling to keep the faith and hang on one day at a time.

Sighing, Memphis wondered aimlessly around the arena. Usually she kept to herself, watching the action from video monitors near the production booth. It seemed to be the only place she belonged. If she sat in the Gorilla, everyone gave her the look as if she hadn't earned her spot there. Being in the female locker room was also super uncomfortable. It was a hard and lonely feeling when no one wanted you around. She peeked in Catering and saw several Superstars eating. Walking away, she ended up in the Green Room, which happened to be empty. Letting herself in, Memphis took a seat on the plush couch. Nearby was an open mini bar. Normally the talent and staff were not allowed to drink on the job but it wasn't like she was going to be doing much of anything besides her normal routine of watching from the sidelines. Reaching over, she helped herself to a mini sized bottle of Vodka. She opened it and took a big sip wincing as it burned going down her throat.

"Drinking on the job, huh?"

The voice startled her so much so that she nearly dropped the bottle. Standing up, she looked and saw the figure at the entrance. It was a man she had seen wrestle many times before but they had never met face to face.

"What are you doing here?" she nervously asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"My name is Memphis. I'm one of the referees but I, I'm not working the card tonight. I was just…"

"Getting sloshed? Drowning your sorrows?"

She frowned.

"You're not gonna tell, are you? I mean, I could get in serious trouble…"

"True but you knew that before you took a sip. You knew there would be consequences for your actions yet you took the risk and did it anyway. Why?"

"Excuse me?" she said defensively as he smirked at her.

"No, I'm curious to know. Let's just say Vince McMahon himself had walked in here instead of me. Would that drink have been worth it?"

His tone was menacing and condescending and Memphis had had enough.

"Whatever," she stood and tried to brush by him.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you, away from all this. Look, tell if you want to. I can't stop you and I'm damn sure not going to beg you. It's like everybody wants me out of here so bad anyway. Well, now is your chance. I screwed up. Why don't you go snitch and see what happens?"

He laughed out loud as he gently reached out and grabbed her arm, trying to stop her.

"Slow down."

"Don't touch me," she jerked away.

He put his hands up.

"It's okay. I was just messing with you. I have a weird personality and even weirder sense of humor, or so I've been told. That was just my sick way of having fun with you. I meant no harm."

She looked at him skeptically.

"So you're not gonna tell?"

"Hey, I'm no nark."

She exhaled a relieved breath, closing her eyes briefly.

"Well, that's good to know, I guess…that is if you're even telling the truth."

"Trust issues, much?" he questioned, backing off when he saw the fire in her eyes. "Sorry. There I go again. The weird personality and sick sense of humor I was telling you about."

"From what I've seen so far, people around here aren't exactly known for their integrity…or hospitality for that matter. Wrap all that up and call it a rib and it's supposed to be okay, right?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, the whole fresh meat syndrome. But this case is worse because nobody's ever seen a female referee before."

"Tell me about it."

"I've heard them. Talking shit, making bets, making jokes…"

Memphis cringed.

"Well, they can say or think whatever they want. This isn't high school or Sorority Life. I didn't come here to make friends or win any popularity contests. This is the WWE and it's my dream and I came to make a name for myself and change the face and game of professional wrestling."

"Then good for you."

He seemed like he was being genuine but she had let her guard down once before and mistook someone's kindness for later turned out to be the prelude for a mean trick. She had promised herself she wouldn't fall for something like that again.

"Okay, what do you want?"

"Come again?"

She rolled her eyes, exasperated.

"Why are you here? And who sent you? The wrestlers or the referees? And what do you have up your sleeve? What is your plan to harass or humiliate me?"

"You've got the wrong guy, sweetheart. Look, I enjoy a good practical joke as good as the next person but when it comes at the expense of another person, it kind of loses it's funny points, if you get what I'm saying. Anyway, I can understand your paranoia but relax. I was just passing by. Nobody sent me to do anything and I swear I'm not here to mess with you or do anything screwed up."

Still not one hundred percent convinced, Memphis stepped away and relaxed a bit.

"Sorry, it's just that…"

"People are dicks around here?"

She let out a small smile.

"Well, yeah."

"You get used to it. Phil, by the way," he extended his hand. "I don't think we've been properly introduced yet. My name is Phil Brooks and you are?"

She reluctantly shook his hand.

"Memphis Kramer."

"Nice to meet you, Memphis. I wrestle…"

"I know. You're CM Punk. I've seen you…a lot. I'm a fan."

"Flattery gets you everywhere. Wish I could say the same about you but I've only seen your work that night on Superstars. I did hear nice stuff about you though, you know, from your Indy days."

"From who?" she inquired.

"Do you know Nelson Lowe?"

Memphis thought for a minute.

"Oh yeah. We met briefly before. He's a cool guy. I did a show with him in Jersey, I think."

"He travels a lot on the Independent scene but does most of his work with Ring of Honor. That's where I met him. Anyway, he spoke highly of you and like I said, what I saw on Superstars was pretty cool."

She shifted her weight uncomfortably. It was nice to discuss ideas and how things looked with colleagues but so far Memphis hadn't had that pleasure. She did not want to seem too eager but she was interested to know the specifics of his opinion.

"Really?"

"Yeah. You kept the match running smoothly, maintained the kayfabe, which is probably the hardest and most important part. You communicated the match to the wrestlers and kept it under the time limit."

Memphis shrugged.

"I could barely hear my earpiece but yeah, it went pretty well, I suppose."

"This place is a big game of hurry up and wait. Even with the wrestlers. Guys get called up and then they have to wait for what seems like forever to get their big match on TV. Don't worry. It will come. When it does, use that as your chance to do the best job you can and then stick up two proverbial middle fingers at your legion of haters and tell them where they can stick it."

She couldn't help but giggle. That did seem nice.

"Thanks, Phil. Listen, about earlier…I don't want you to think…"

"That you're a lush?" he teased.

"Well yeah. I know that you're Straight Edge in real life and all…"

"I am because that works for me. Unlike my character, I don't push my beliefs on everybody around me. You have to do what works for you. I didn't stop you from drinking because I'm Straight Edge. I did it because I don't want to give anyone else a reason to fuck with you."

She nodded, relieved.

"Thank you. That's nice of you. I don't why you're being so nice but I really appreciate it."

"Anytime and oh yeah, I hate a bully. Anyway, I have to wrestle tonight so I need to go change. Maybe I'll see you around sometime."

"Yeah, maybe…"

"Take care of yourself and try to stay sober," he made a bad joke.

With that, he was gone leaving Memphis all by her lonesome. It was a close call as she had given in and let her disappointment and frustrations get the best of her. As a result, it had almost landed her in hot water. She cursed herself. She knew damn well she had to keep her nose cleaner than that. At least Punk or Phil had walked in on her. Anyone else and the outcome probably would have been a lot different and a lot worse. Daring to think she had just made a friend, she shrugged it off and took it for what it was worth. He was being nice to her, genuine, and that was a start. Who would have known that the tattooed Straight Edge heel would turn out to be the most unlikely of allies? And Memphis needed all the support she could get.


	6. Baby Daddy

It was another big sold out house show the night before a Monday Night RAW and to Memphis' surprise, her name had been on the card to referee a match between Gail Kim and Alicia Fox. It would be her first time officiating a match between two Divas and though it was far from the televised Main Event she coveted, the pretty young referee was more than willing to take what she could get. It beat watching from the sidelines any day. With a smile on her face, she made her way to the back of the arena to find a place to get dressed.

"Excuse me, do you work here?"

Memphis stopped and turned to see a young woman with brunette hair standing in front of her. She was pretty but visibly upset. Her voice shook as mascara smeared tears streamed down her face.

"Yeah, um, hi, I do. Are you okay?"

The young woman shook her head.

"Can you please help me?"

"What's going on?"

"I need to see Randy Orton. It's really important."

Memphis stopped. It took a minute but pretty soon it all came together. She had been down that road before. It actually happened all the time. Beautiful, over zealous fans somehow managed to sneak backstage at events in order for a few minutes of up close and personal time with their favorite Superstar. They often cried, bribed, and begged but Memphis had learned to simply turn them away politely.

"Look, sweetie, I'm really sorry but you can't be back here. It's against the rules. If security catches you back here, you could get into real trouble. Why don't you go back in line?"

"But ma'am, you don't understand…"

This girl was one of the persistent ones.

"Okay, look, if you tell me what your seat number is, I'll try and see if I can get you an autograph later."

Memphis cringed. She had no idea how she was going to pull that one off. Randy was a jerk and they weren't exactly on friendly terms. Getting him to do any favors was going to be one hell of a task.

"No. I'm not a fan. I mean, I was but it's totally different now. Things have changed. I didn't sneak backstage to get an autograph or picture. I came here because he stopped taking my calls and answering my e-mails. I didn't know what else to do because I have to talk to him. What am I going to do?"

She became more and more frantic and tearful with each passing word. When she stepped back and allowed her thin cardigan to open a little, Memphis could see why. The girl was petite but there was no hiding that bulge underneath her clothes that resembled a small bowling ball.

"Oh my God…"

"Please. You have to help me. I am scared. He got so mad last time we talked but I don't know what else to do. I'm not trying to trap him or get his money, I just want him to take responsibility for what we both did."

Memphis' mouth fell open.

"Oh. Oh…oh! You mean…"

"Yeah," the woman hugged herself. "My name is Hannah Wilson. I met Randy at a bar after a live show about six months ago. We partied…hooked up and um, now…now I'm pregnant."

"It's his?"

The girl nodded.

"I know this sounds bad but I think so. I mean, I had a boyfriend before him but we had broken up. We did end up spending the night together the week before I met Randy. Anyway, I made a big mistake and now I'm not sure. This…this whole thing has just been really hard for me. I'm just trying to somehow fix this, clean up the mess that I made but it has been so difficult. I'm not this girl, though. I'm not the slut that Randy treats me like."

"Oh sweetie, no. No one thinks you're a slut," Memphis tried to comfort her.

"Randy does."

"I'm sure he doesn't."

"Yes, he does. That's what he called me right before he hung up on me the last time we talked. Oh that and a gold digging cunt."

Memphis cringed. Unfortunately that sure sounded like the Randy Orton that she knew and despised.

"Well, he does have a way with words…"

"That's an understatement but I'm getting closer to my due date and we haven't talked in a few weeks or so and this is just really bothering me."

"Okay, okay," Memphis took the girl by the hand. "Look, I can't make any promises but just have a seat and I'll see what I can do. If anybody comes up to you and asks what you're doing back here, just tell them you're the personal guest of Memphis Kramer. I, I'm a referee here."

"Thank you," Hannah mouthed as Memphis left her in the Green Room.

She walked down the corridors looking for any sign of the Viper but found none. Finally she came to the personal dressing room of John Cena. Memphis stopped and knocked at the door, waiting anxiously as she heard heavy footsteps approaching from the other side. It opened and she saw the mammoth, handsome man who proudly wore the purple and yellow colors of the Cenation.

"Memphis," he frowned. "What, what are you doing here?"

"Um, hi. John, I'm so sorry to bother you but I was looking for Randy. It's kind of important…"

He looked behind him before opening the door wider and stepping aside. Sitting in a chair was the Legend Killer himself. Randy took one look at her and made a face.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked gruffly.

"I…I, uh, I need to speak with you…"

"So speak."

Memphis looked over at the curious expression on John's face.

"Alone."

Randy smirked.

"Alone, huh? Sorry but uh, I'm not accepting applications from the lonely and pathetic tonight. You might want to try again later. Who knows, if I get wasted, I might be feeling charitable enough to give you some sympathy ass. At the very least I'll let you suck me off."

"Randy," John looked at him in disbelief. "Come on, man."

"What? Just having a little fun."

Memphis' eyes narrowed as she folded her arms.

"I think that's precisely the problem, all the fun you've been having. In fact, some of your fun is sitting in the Green Room right now waiting for you."

"What?"

"Does the name Hannah Wilson ring a bell?"

"Holy shit," John whispered.

Randy's jaw tightened.

"How do you know about Hannah?"

"I ran into her in the hallway and she was damn near hysterical. She wants to see you."

"Well, I don't want to see her."

Memphis gave him a look of disbelief.

"That is so messed up. She could be carrying your child. The least you could do is talk to her about it. She is scared out of her mind."

"She can talk to my lawyer."

"What am I supposed to say to her?"

"I don't give a shit what you say," Randy explained. "I'm not the one who told you to get involved in something that is none of your business. You're the one who wanted to play Little Miss Fix It and try to save the day."

He turned his back and Memphis felt herself fuming. Even John looked disgusted.

"Can you believe this guy?" she looked at John. "He sleeps around and now he just gets to walk away from his responsibilities."

"Shut up!" Randy charged towards her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," John held him back. "Calm down, dude."

"This stupid bitch is the one who came in here getting in my face like she knows what the hell is going on!"

"I don't care, just calm down. That's a woman and you're not gonna get in her face like that. Get a hold of yourself."

After a few seconds, Randy finally calmed down a little.

"Where is she?" he demanded. "Is Hannah still here?"

"In the Green Room," Memphis answered.

He angrily brushed past her, storming down the hall. John gave a confused shrug as Memphis just rolled her eyes. She had to be on top of her game for the match that night and that meant not involving herself in Randy's paternity drama. She headed off for a dressing room while he headed to the Green Room where he found the one woman he had been successfully avoiding for months.

"Randy…" she looked up at him.

A million emotions raced through her. Anger, humiliation…relief. He was the man she had watched on TV for years. She had been a fan of his wrestling character and when they had happened to run into each other after the show, it had been a dream come true for her being that close to him. All she had ever wanted was a picture and an autograph but she hadn't gotten a lot more. Of all the other girls throwing themselves at him, he, Randy Orton had actually paid attention to her. He was even hotter in person if that was possible and after a few drinks, he had invited her back to his bus. She knew it was wrong but it was so exciting. They ended up having sex right there. Sure there wasn't a lot of kissing or foreplay directed towards her but it was Randy Orton, after all.

"You shouldn't have come here," he glanced at her with utter disdain.

"You won't talk to me. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Look, I've already told you. Pop the kid out, call my attorney, do the DNA test, if it says I'm the father, which I hope to God it doesn't, we'll deal with it then. I don't know what else you want me to say or do. I don't know what else you want from me."

More tears fell from her eyes.

"I don't know…a little compassion, maybe."

"Go get compassion from your boyfriend."

She closed her eyes.

"We're not together anymore. I already told you that."

"Not my fault," he shrugged.

"I know, it's just that this is so hard and I feel so alone and…"

Randy dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He placed it in Hannah's lap.

"Here."

"What's this?" she asked, confused.

"It's a phone, now call someone who cares. Look, I've told you what the deal is. We'll know who the father is when the kid is born. If it's mine, talk to my lawyer. If it's not, I never want to hear from your ass again. In the meantime, don't ever show up at my job again. You got that?"

He gave her that infamous, intimidating Orton glare before taking his phone back and walking away. She'd had some nerve just showing up like that and then there was that other dumb bitch who'd had the nerve to get involved in his affairs. Heading back to the locker room, he almost ran right into John.

"Everything alright?"

"You following me now, Cena?"

"Somebody's got to. You were pretty heated when you left and we both know your ass is in enough hot water around here as it is. Just making sure you didn't do anything stupid."

"Thanks for taking care of me, Mom," Randy muttered sarcastically.

"Where is Hannah?"

"Hopefully on her way back to wherever she came from."

"And Memphis?"

Randy grunted.

"Who knows and who cares? She's lucky she's not a guy. I wanted to punch her right in her face. I mean, who the hell does she think she is trying to tell me what to do?"

"She meant well, besides she ran into Hannah. Better her than Vince or someone from Corporate. You know they've been riding your ass about Hannah ever since they found out about the situation."

"It's bullshit."

"Maybe so but take it as a lesson learned. You might want to be careful of bringing back a different ring rat and groupie to your bus every night. Next time it might not be just a baby you have to worry about. Next time you might catch something that could make your dick fall off."

Randy smirked.

"You're one to talk. Cena loves the ladies, too. Weren't you just bragging about some random threesome you had last week?"

"We're not talking about me, we're talking about you. Besides, the only way anyone ever finds out about my dirt is if I tell them. Watch yourself, man. I'm just saying…"

Ignoring warnings and wisdom like he always did, Randy just walked off. As he turned the corner, he saw Memphis heading to the Gorilla. Her hair had been pulled back and she was wearing fitted black slacks and her striped referee shirt. Their eyes met and he shot her a scowl. Memphis just kept walking. The guy was even more of a douche bag than she had previously thought but she had bigger fish to fry. Randy Orton and his drama was the last thing she needed or wanted to think about. She had a point to prove and a career to salvage. Everything else would just have to wait.


	7. Viper, Legend Killer, Problem Solver

Memphis dashed through the airport, purse and carryon luggage in hand. She had already heard the last call for her flight and that had been at least three minutes before when she had been pulling up her jeans in the bathroom stall. She was really starting to regret all that coffee she had just ingested but there was no time for regrets. In fact, there was little time for anything. She had a plane to catch from Kansas City that was Phoenix bound. She knew if she missed that flight, any hope of a RAW debut would be flushed down the toilet.

"Memphis Kramer," she practically tossed her ticket at the gate attendant. "Oh my God, please tell me they haven't shut the door yet. I cannot miss this flight!"

"You made it by the skin of your teeth," the woman rudely answered without even looking at her.

Used to less than polite behavior, Memphis took it with a shrug and raced onto the waiting plane. It was just an hour or so before sunset and to her surprise, the WWE had sprung for a business class seat. Not that she was complaining. Coach could get a little uncomfortable at times. At least she could look forward to a few hours of rest and relaxation on the flight.

"Welcome aboard American Airlines flight 631," a much friendlier flight attendant greeted her. "May I see your ticket, please? Great, 4B, right this way, ma'am…"

Memphis smiled, putting her baggage overhead as she settled into her seat and fastened the belt. The doors shut as she was the last passenger let on board. The seat next to her was empty and the flight did not appear to be full. Getting settled in, she closed her eyes.

"Well, well, well, what the hell is this? What do we have here?"

Memphis sucked in a breath. Her eyes were still closed and she was afraid to open them. She didn't have to. She'd know that sinister voice anywhere and she could feel those beady eyes boring a hole through her. Finally giving in and opening her eyes, she saw the tall, lean, and tattooed frame of the Viper looming over her.

"What are you doing?" she looked up at him. "Why are you bothering me? The plane is about to take off, you're supposed to be in your seat."

"Then move those claudhoppers you call feet," he smirked as he crudely stepped over and plopped down in the seat by the window.

Memphis' eyes grew wide.

"Oh no. You…this…are you…please tell me this is not your seat."

He fastened his belt.

"This is my seat and this is your lucky day."

She groaned out loud as the huge metal bird began to taxi down the runway. It was absolutely not her lucky day. Suddenly Memphis felt on edge and it had nothing to do with the takeoff. The plane propelled smoothly into the air as she stared into the aisle. It was going to be a long few hours seated next to him in such a confined space and she had no idea how she was going to pull it off.

"Can I have some water, please?" she croaked as the stewardess who had shown her to her seat walked by.

She was soon given a bottle of sparkling mineral water. Memphis popped the top and gulped it, the majority of the liquid ran down her chin and onto her shirt.

"Thirsty or nervous?" he eyed her.

"Listen, we're going to be on this plane, unfortunately, for quite a minute. I'm not happy about the seating arrangements any more than you are but we're stuck and we're going to have to deal with it so we may as well be adults about it."

"Okay," he shrugged.

"Thank you," she muttered, reclining the seat.

"Forgive me for just wanting to…clear the air, so to speak about the tension of our last encounter."

She knew he was being facetious.

"You mean, when you yelled at me and left your possible Baby Mama sobbing hysterically in the arena Green Room?"

Randy chuckled, seeming quite satisfied with himself.

"Oh yeah. That."

Memphis anxiously tapped her fingers against the arm rest. She knew it was probably wise to hold her tongue but it was becoming more and more difficult.

"You know, I probably shouldn't say anything…"

"Then don't."

"…But I will," she shot him a look of pure disdain. "I just want to say that what you did that night was really awful and rude and so uneccesary. That girl is pregnant and scared and all alone…"

"Not my fault."

"Actually it is…or at least it could be."

"Exactly, could be. She doesn't even know who her kid's father is. How trashy is that? I got into her panties exactly one hour after I met her."

"So?"

"So she's a whore."

"That's not fair and what a double standard by the way. If she's such a whore then what does that make you? It takes two to tango, you know."

"True but apparently I wasn't her only dance partner, if you know what I mean. Big surprise, right?"

"She made a mistake that she is terribly ashamed of but at least she's being honest about it. That must be hard so hard for her."

Randy laughed out loud.

"What the hell are you now, her therapist? Her BFF? Get out of here. In three months we'll run the DNA. If the kid is mine, I'll give her a reasonable amount of money each month for child support. I mean, if she thinks she's gonna sit on her ass in a mansion and live high off the hog off my money, that bitch has another thing coming. But hopefully it won't even come to that. Hopefully that kid won't be mine and we can forget all this ever happened."

"Until the next time?"

"What's that supposed to mean? What is your deal?"

"It's really none of my business but I was the one thrown in the middle of it all. I just think you're handling this all wrong. If this baby turns out not to be yours then yeah you've dodged a huge bullet but I would hope that it would teach you a lesson."

"And what lesson is that?"

"Um, let's see…not to be a jackass and shit all over people whenever you feel like it. Oh and how about wrapping it up or better yet, not feeling the need to sleep with every groupie that shows you a little bit of interest?"

If Randy Orton smiled, it would have been a smile but everyone knew that the Legend Killer didn't smile. He smirked. So looking Memphis square in the eye, he gave her an evil and arrogant smirk.

"I see. I get what all this is about."

"What are you talking about?" she naively took the bait.

"I've got you all figured out."

"I seriously doubt that."

"Oh yeah and it was pretty easy. You're a rebel always standing up against the establishment, always making your own way, doing things different. You strike me as the type with daddy issues so your whole so called love of wrestling probably came from some warped attempt in your childhood to get him to pay attention to you. 'I'll watch wrestling with my Daddy so he'll spend time with me'. Anyway, you decide you're gonna do this but the stubborn rebel in you won't let you valet or even wrestle. No, you have to stand out, make a statement, be different. So you decided to be a referee, traveling all over the country trying to be a bigshot when really everybody is just sitting back laughing at your ass behind your back. Vince signs you not because you have any talent but because he's always looking for the next greatest novelty or big gimmick, and trust me sweetheart, that's all your are. Now you're in the big leagues and you're pouting and pissed off at the world because no one has given you your big break. And now you want to take it out on me and get in my business and get your granny panties in a bunch and pass judgment because your life sucks. I get it. Hell, I even understand it."

Memphis was horrified. She knew he was a jerk but it was more than that. He was beyond menacing. He was ruthless and relentless and she'd had enough.

"You are impossible, you know that?" she shot back. "First of all you don't know me. Let's get that straight. You don't know shit about my life and you never will so how dare you sit here and make assumptions and your rude ass attempts at jokes. You are arrogant and smug and crude and mean and I don't like you."

"Yeah you do. You might try to convince yourself that you don't but you do," he leaned in a little closer. "You're a little fish drowning in a big pond, nobody likes you and you're scared and alone. And you're starstruck. When is the last time you got laid? When is the last time you had a man, considering you even like men?"

"Excuse me?"

"Look, we land at the airport and everybody is going straight to the hotel to check in. Why don't you meet me up in my room?"

"You have got to be joking…"

The look on his face told her he wasn't.

"We can hook up and for one night only I'll make you forget that you are just a never was who has already used up about seven and a half of your 15 minutes of fame."

"You are revolting," Memphis shook her head.

Randy reached over and touched her knee.

"Or we could go right in that bathroom over there right now."

Memphis looked him right in those steely blue eyes.

"Let's get one thing straight. I am not attracted to you. I do not want to sleep with you. In fact, I would not have sex with you if you were the last man on this planet. You have been nothing but a jerk to me since I've been here and I have done nothing to deserve it. You have a serious problem, one that really needs fixing. Maybe everyone else is scared of you because you're one of the top wrestlers in the company or because of what your last name is but I'm not. You may get away with terrorizing everyone else backstage but I am not gonna take your crap anymore. You bully all the guys and you sleep with all the girls until they are all used up and you want nothing more to do with them. Well that's not me. And 15 minutes of fame or not, I'll be damned if I spend any of it letting you control or affect me and I sure as hell won't spend it with you in your bed or in an airplane bathroom stall."

With that, she angrily unbuckled her seatbelt and stood.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" the flight attendant rushed over.

"No, as a matter of fact it's not," Memphis replied in a huff. "I would really like to change my seat."

The attendant looked around.

"Miss, I'm afraid that won't be possible. All the first class seats are taken."

"I don't care about class. I will gladly sit in coach, hell I'd sit on the wing if I have to. In fact, put me at the back of the plane if it means I don't have to spend another second next to this moron."

"There are some seats available in coach…" she craned her neck.

"Excellent," Memphis opened the overhead and pulled down her bag.

Her eyes met Randy's one last time before she stormed off. There was something about her that he absolutely could not stand. First of all, she had the nerve to turn him down. No woman ever turned down the chance to go to bed with Randy Orton, in fact, most practically threw themselves at him. And in addition to Memphis being a nuisance and having a big mouth, she was someone who obviously thought too much of herself. People like that, women like that needed to be taken down a peg or two. Memphis Kramer was a problem and Randy had just the solution for that problem. He was Randy Orton and like it or not, he was the undisputed leader of the WWE locker room. The last thing he would stand for was some loud mouthed broad coming in and trying to take over. He could see dealing with Memphis was going to be a battle but this was one war he knew he couldn't lose. He was biding his time for the perfect opportunity and when it came, he was going to make Memphis pay.


	8. Make It Or Break It

Memphis sat in a private corner of the Catering room frowning as she picked at her salad. She didn't even bother to look up when the lone figure loomed over her table.

"Don't say I never gave you anything," he said as he slammed something down in front of her.

Memphis grinned. She picked up the item and peeled back the wrapper exposing a delicious looking and smelling piping hot Tomato and Mozzarella Panini.

"My favorite," she grinned. "How did you know?"

Phil gave a smirk as he plopped down beside her. The two had recently begun spending more and more time together on the road.

"Call it male intuition. Besides, that salad looks pretty weak. Does it taste as bad as it looks?"

She stared at the discolored lettuce.

"Worse. I'm actually surprised. Usually Food Service does a lot better than this but good looking out," she said as she took a large bite.

"So how is it going?" he asked. "What's been up with you?"

Memphis shrugged.

"Nothing much. Same old, same old. You?"

"Just hanging out, you know, living the life of a super sexy rich and famous WWE Superstar…that and fixing my furnace."

"Fixing your furnace?" she giggled out loud.

"What?"

"Nothing. Wow, forgive me for laughing, it's just that I never envisioned you as the fix it type."

"I'm a man of many talents and surprises," he said as he removed his hood and rubbed the head that had only recently begun to sprout hair after shaving off his long locks due to the storyline.

"It's growing back," she noticed.

"It is kind of weird," Phil admitted.

"I like it. It suits you."

He smiled up at her and for the first time Memphis saw that it was a real and genuine smile, not one of his usual smart ass smirks.

"Thanks."

"You know, you don't look like a Phil."

"Really?" he leaned back and folded his arms. "What do I look like? What should my name be?"

"I don't know…"

"And I hope you're not coming with jokes cause Memphis? I mean, really," he winked to let her know he was just teasing her.

She laughed out loud.

"Blame my parents. That's the city where they met so I guess they were having a sentimental moment reminiscing in the delivery room or whatever. But anyway, back to you…"

"Back to me."

Memphis studied him. He was a good looking guy but not in the traditional sense. He was really nice but had a weird sense of humor that was sometimes dark and unorthodox and was often mistaken for him actually being serious when he wasn't. He was one of the only people backstage who was nice to her and Memphis greatly appeciated the gesture. It was nice to have a friend and the few times they had hung around together, it had been casual and they had enjoyed each other's company.

"What does CM Punk stand for?"

Phil sighed.

"You know, I get this question all the time, don't you read Wikipedia?"

"Actually, I don't," she smiled.

He gave a dramatic eye roll.

"The CM originally stood for chick magnet."

Memphis' eyes danced.

"Chick magnet, huh? That's hot."

"But now it doesn't."

"Okay," she clapped her hands. "How about this? From now on can I just call you Punk? I kind of like it. It suits you, not in a bad way but you know."

"Hey," he shrugged. "Whatever you want. I figure you could call me a lot worse."

She gave him a warm smile that was interrupted when the door burst open. It was WWE, one of the RAW ring announcers.

"Memphis, I've been looking all over for you," he said.

She looked genuinely surprised.

"Me?"

"Yeah," he answered, slightly out of breath. "Mike Chioda was supposed to referee Phil's match tonight with Teddy DiBiase but now he's sick. It's food poison or something so don't eat the lettuce around here."

Phil and Memphis shared a laugh.

"Now you tell us," she quipped.

Justin ignored her.

"Anyway, we're short staffed tonight as far as officials…really short staffed. We only have two other guys tonight, the others are traveling with Smackdown. Bottom line, we need another ref and Vince wants you."

"Me?" Memphis stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the entire table as she did.

"Yeah. It's the third match on the card, do you think you can handle it?"

Memphis swallowed hard. She could hardly believe it. Her dream all of a sudden was coming true. After so much time waiting and wondering now, she had to wait and wonder no more. The opportunity of a lifetime had just been dumped in her lap.

"I can handle it," she replied with confidence.

Justin nodded.

"Then you better get dressed. You're gonna need to meet with the guys and the Production Coordinator to go over spots and everything."

Shortly thereafter Justin left, leaving Phil and Memphis alone. He stared at her until she could no longer contain her joy. She leapt into his arms, squealing and screaming.

"Okay, okay," Phil said, as he struggled to regain his balance. "Just so you know, I do have a real life hip injury so unexpected excited leaps from 125 pound women is not really the best idea."

"120 pounds, thank you very much," she corrected him. "Oh my God, did you hear what he just said? Did you hear it?"

"I did. I had full use of my ears before you started screaming in them."

She rolled her eyes.

"You don't get it. We are in New Orleans about to go live on television in front of millions of people all over the world in a few hours for Monday Night RAW and I am going to referee. I get to offciate an actual televised match!"

"Good for you," Phil tried to sound unimpressed. "And better yet, it's one of my last matches. Lucky you."

"Come on, walk with me," she directed. "I have to go change."

"Yes ma'am."

"What do you mean last match?"

"I hurt my hip a while ago and it's not getting any better."

"How bad is it? I thought you were about to start a feud with Bryan Danielson."

"That was the plan but with Taker out and Mania only six months away, they want to make sure I'm rested, ready and one hundred percent. I'm gonna be out at least three months."

"Oh," she frowned, a little upset.

"Disappointed?"

"No. I mean…"

"Well, I actually thought you might miss me," he pretended to be hurt.

"I might," Memphis teased. "Who else is gonna bring me gourmet paninis and save me from 72 hours of puking my guts out due to recalled lettuce that already looked like it had seen better days?"

"Relax. I'll only be off the air for a couple weeks. After that, they're gonna have me as the new guest commentator for RAW."

"Really?" she asked with surprise.

"Yep. So I really need to brush up on my charm and quick wit. How am I doing so far?"

"You suck but…"

"We get word that we're going to be on TV tonight and all of a sudden we're a comedian. I see how it is."

"I'm just joking around," she explained. "But seriously though. You're like my only friend around here if I can even call you that. You bring me food, you actually say hi and you don't stare at me all weird and place bets on when I'm gonna quit or get canned so far as that goes around here, it practically qualifies you for BFF material. That explains the attachment. It's nice to see a friendly face around here, even if it is just one. So yeah, it would be kind of sad to see you go. I'm glad you're sticking around."

They arrived at the door to one of the Women's locker rooms. He uncharacteristically shoved his pants in his pockets for a minute as his voice took a quiet tone.

"I'm glad I'm sticking around, too."

Memphis loudly cleared her throat.

"Well this is me…"

"Yeah."

"I'm gonna change and I'll guess I'll meet you at the Gorilla."

He nodded and she went to go get ready. The locker room was huge and Memphis was more than thankful that she had it to herself even if it was only for a few moments. She grabbed her bag and quickly changed into her attire. Her black and white striped shirt was small to fit her tiny frame and the black slacks were more fitted and suited for the feminine shape. She wore simple black shoes and pulled her hair into a neat bun. Memphis carefully applied concealer, eyeshadow, mascara, liner and a sublte coat of lipstick. As much as she hated to admit it, she was nervous. It was her big moment, make or break time. So much was on the line. She knew if she screwed it up, there might not be another shot. In fact, Vince might send her back to New York altogether. So everything had to be just right, from her officiating skills to the way she looked. The last thing she wanted to do was put too much emphasis on her look and jazz it up too much but at the same time, she would be on TV and wanted to look presentable. Besides, that ignorant comment Randy Orton had made on the plane ride had managed to strike a nerve. He had insinuated that she did not like men, a misconception she was sure would probably come up anyway due to the fact that she was the only woman in her field doing a "man's job". It wasn't supposed to matter what people thought but as much as she hated to admit, sometimes it did.

After checking her reflection a million times, Memphis put away her belongings and made her way to the Gorilla. The show would be starting soon and she could already hear the excited fans standing outside waiting to be let in. Pacing nervously near the Titantron, she was soon joined by the two competitors, Phil and of course Teddy DiBiase. Memphis hadn't had many dealings with DiBiase since coming on with the company. Like the others, he basically ignored her. She admired his wrestling skills but the perception she got was of a pouty, whiny, spoiled third generation Superstar who felt entitled and was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. When the Production Coordinator joined them, she took a deep breath. It was time.

The rules and plan were simple enough. The match was to last between six and seven minutes, to absolutely under no circumstances go over eight. Teddy was win the contest when an "enraged" CM Punk, eager to continue making a statement on RAW, got himself disqualifed after going too far and viciously attacking the self proclaimed Million Dollar Champion. The men had already chosen their spots and went over them with Memphis in order. She had refereed dozens of matches in her career and she knew what she was doing but this one was different. It was the most important one she would have yet and it had to go smooth.

"Everybody clear on what we're doing?" the Production Coordinator asked one last time.

"We got it," Phil answered.

"Clear," Memphis agreed.

Teddy rolled his eyes.

"It isn't brain surgery."

Memphis chewed at her lip.

"I just want to say that I am really honored to be here and get to do this tonight. It's a match on RAW and it's what I've been waiting for and I'm super excited so I just want to thank both of you, Teddy and Punk, ahead of time. Let's go have a good time and kick some ass."

Teddy looked at her like she was crazy.

"Are you for real right now?" he scoffed before turning to walk away. "So fucking lame."

Phil gave a look of disdain. Teddy had never been on his list of favorite people anyway.

"She was just trying to be nice," he spoke up.

"What are you trying to say?" Teddy stopped and asked.

"Exactly what I just said. You heard me. Memphis was being nice and if you don't want to talk to her, that's fine but don't be a dick about it, dude. That's so unneccesary."

"What are you now, her guardian angel? Is it your job to protect her?"

"Just showing a little common courtesy, which we all should be doing in fact. If you don't like it, tough. If you're not man enough to be decent, that one is on you but as long as I am around, you will treat her with respect. You got that?"

It was a side of Phil she hadn't seen before. Teddy looked pissed but he retreated without further word or incident.

"You didn't have to do that," Memphis said when he was gone.

"I know but somebody has to stand up and do the right thing around here. I mean, you didn't do anything wrong to anyone. They're just freaking out because you're a female referee and that is absolutely ludicrous. They have no other reason to dislike you and it's so junvenile and stupid that it makes me want to pop pills, get crazy wasted drunk and have meaningless promiscuous sex with ring rats."

She couldn't help but laugh.

"Thank you, I think. I…I appreciate it."

"Anytime. Look, I don't want you to worry about anything except the match coming up. You're not dumb…let's call a spade a spade. Everybody is waiting for you to f this one up. This is your chance. You have to prove them all wrong and remind Vince why he hired you in the first place."

Memphis nodded.

"You're right. Thanks."

He gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

"I'll see you around. Let me know if you need anything."

He walked away, leaving her all alone. She had a little over an hour to prepare. The butterflies were present but she was ready. Memphis has memorized every spot perfectly. When the PA gave her an earpice and tested it, she took a deep breath. It was time to kick ass and take names. The broadcast started after Superstars was taped. The first few RAW matches and traditional promos took place, then during the commerical break, Memphis took her cue and strolled confidently down the ramp. The fans looked on. Some of the more knowledgable ones were well aware of the anomaly of the newly hired female ring official, some of them seemed very shocked. Ignoring it all and focusing on the job at hand, she hopped up onto the ring apron and entered between the two bottom ropes. Nodding at Justin, her heart raced as the show went live again. The lights came on and Teddy's music hit. He was accompanied by his valet Maryse Ouellette. Together they sauntered to the ring and entered just as CM Punk's theme began. Memphis watched on with interest. Phil and CM Punk were like two different people to her. It was weird seeing him in heel character all suited up for battle.

"Let's go," Memphis gave the cue for the timekeeper to ring the bell.

The match began. The two danced around before locking up. They traded "blows" back and forth, punches and kicks that were meant to look real. It was the choreographed moves that made naysayers call the sport of professional wrestling "fake" and Memphis had a job to do as well. She had to make it look real and did her best admonishing both opponents when they were going too far. The wireless earpiece allowed communication in the back with the Production team who fed her instructions and transmitted messages back and forth about the progress of the match. Everything was going smoothly and soon she was informed that they had less than two minutes to wrap it up. Memphis gave both Teddy and Phil the sign and they got in position. Teddy moved before he was supposed to and then out of the script pushed Phil several times, smirking when he did. Several times Memphis motioned for him to stop but he didn't. Finally to both men's surprise, she physically inserted herself between them and was unphased when Teddy gave her a shove. The crowd gasped, thinking it was part of the act and erupted when she stunned him with a full fledged push of her own. Even Phil had to suppress his grin as a fuming and shocked Teddy finally put himself back in proper position.

"Get your ass over here, rich boy!" CM Punk taunted as he started to begin his ruthless assault.

They'd been in location but Teddy all of a sudden moved yet again.

"What are you doing?" Memphis tersely whispered. "You're off script."

Teddy ignored her. He began pulling his own impromptu spots much to the surprise of Memphis and Phil. The backstage officials were going crazy in the mic demanding that Memphis gain some sort of control.

"What the fuck?" Phil mumbled under his breath.

Memphis inched closer, trying her best ventriloquist impression.

"Sell to him. I guarantee he is gonna try to hit Dream Street. Let him. I'll count slow, you kick out on two and a half. He'll be stunned and pissed. Take him down, then roll out of the ring and go crazy. Basically destroy the set. I'll get him over on a countout."

There was no time to argue or object or develop an alternate plan. Phil did exactly what he was told. Memphis had called it down to a tee. The two men did not like each other in real life and Teddy had not been happy about losing to his rival. Eager to get over on the new official and make himself look good, Teddy had switched everything around and when the opportunity came, he went for Dream Street. He had expected both Phil and Memphis to be disoriented and frazzled enough to lay down for the count and slap the mat 1-2-3 respectively, but the duo had other plans. As devised, CM Punk kicked out last minute on the ref's slow count. He took DiBiase down with a modified spear and rolled outside the ring, going crazy. He went after the camera guy, destroyed the Spanish announce table and broke chairs, screaming obscenities at the ringside fans.

"Screw all of you!" he yelled defiantly, hating the show had a PG rating and he couldn't bust out the word he really wanted to.

"Punk, I'm starting my count!" Memphis warned. "I mean it! You've got exactly ten seconds to get back in this ring!"

He ignored her and she counted him out as he stormed off. She raised Teddy's hand in awarded victory. Leaving the ring, a funny thing happened. The fans stood to their feet. They clapped and cheered and screamed her name. They leaned over the barricade to touch her. It was shocking, unheard of. When she caught her breath, she grinned and welcomed the attention of the pop, slapping hands as she made her way to the back. At the top of the ramp, she stopped and waved to thunderous applause.

"What was that?" the three of them were met by none other than Vince McMahon.

No one said a word at first.

"Look…" Phil began.

Vince cut him off.

"That match went nothing like we talked about. What the hell was that? Teddy, are you a wrestler now or are you the head of Creative? Do you think you have the authority to just change matches and do whatever the hell you want to do when you want to do it?" Vince bellowed.

"I…" Teddy tried.

"Shut up!" Vince yelled at him before turning to Memphis. "And you!"

"Listen, we fell off script and all I was trying to do was end the match as smoothly as possible with Teddy winning without having a pinfall or submission. I know I didn't have permission and I'm sorry for that but I had to think fast and…"

"And you came up with that all on your own?" the boss folded his ams.

"Yes," Memphis answered.

"You know what I think? Teddy, I think you're a spoiled brat and you've got one more time, kid, one more to go on national television and screw around with my good name. One more time and you'll be planning spots in the unemployment line."

"Yes sir."

"And you, Phil…oh just get the hell out of my way!"

Phil shrugged and moved.

"And you!"

Memphis sucked in a breath, preparing to be fired on the spot.

"Sir…"

"You…my God," his face broke out into a huge grin as he walked up and gave her a huge hug. "You,my dear, were absolutely brilliant!"

"I…I was?" Memphis made a face.

"Of course you were, don't be so modest! This sniveling jackass over there nearly ruined things and you were smart when it counted. You did the best you could and your best just so happened to save not only the match tonight but quite possibly the whole storyline! You were magnificent out there, young lady. Impressive, very impressive!"

Memphis stood frozen as Vince walked away. She couldn't believe any of it. The entire night had been surreal. It had started out a night like any other night but ended like no other. She had ended up officiating her first match on RAW, coming through when it counted and being affectionately praised by her boss. As she grinned over at Phil and he grinned back, she couldn't think of a better feeling. But noticing the other refs and many of the talent who had ignored her were watching, Memphis suddenly found that feeling. She had arrived. She had proved herself. Now they could all go to hell. They didn't like her and they didn't have to but she had earned her respect. On a make it or break it night, Memphis Kramer had taken the ball and ran away with it. She was in the WWE to stay.


	9. Get Out Of The Kitchen

Randy Orton was bored. The nights, so redundant, all seemed to run together. Wrestling was his love, it was the only thing he was good at anyway. He had failed miserably in the Marine Corp and everyone knew that a regular 9 to 5 would not have suited him. He was a natural in the ring and excelled at every challenge before him. Besides, it made the Old Man proud. For Randy, he couldn't ask for more than that. But as exciting as life was on the road, Randy still wasn't satisifed. He worked out like a fiend in order to keep that killer body in tip top shape and he gave his all every single night in front of the live audience. Aside from that, he felt empty. There was an indescribable feeling of having thousands chant your name, want your autograph and be willing to do whatever it took to be in your presence. But as soon as he walked up that ramp, it all seemed to disappear. He was then left with a void, one that nameless women and alcohol bottles could not fill even though he tried night in and night out.

Frowning, he looked down. The old saying went that sex was good even when it was bad. Randy smirked to himself. Whoever had come up with that one obviously hadn't fucked around with Brandy. Or was it Bethany. No, Brittany. Maybe she had told him Bonnie. Whatever the hell it was it, it started with a B. Regardless, she had looked way prettier sitting in the front row of the arena. It turned out that she was a few pounds heavier than he had originally thought, she had the personality of a fruit fly and was proceeding to give him the worst blow job he'd ever had in his entire life. It didn't even feel good anymore, in fact, it was starting to get annoying.

"Get out," he stated matter of factly.

"What?" the girl asked confused, taking a temporary break from her head bobbing.

He gave her an icy stare.

"You heard me. I said get out."

"You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm in a kidding mood?"

"But we were just getting started," she teased in a pouty voice, slowly stroking the length of his semi hard cock.

"And now we're just finishing up," he told her, swatting her away like a fly. "You suck…no pun intended."

The girl looked hurt but he didn't care. He only stood and pulled up his pants and underwear, motioning for her to get the hell off his bus. She hurried to get dressed and left sobbing and embarrassed but Randy didn't care. That was how he did it. When he was done with you, he was done and that was the end of it. That was what made him different from his BFF John Cena. Cena was the nice guy, the one who let the irritating chicks sleep in his room until checkout. Sometimes the fool even allowed them to order room service on his dime. And when he really wanted them out, he didn't even have the balls to give them the boot. He said it made him feel guilty, the spineless pussy. Instead he would devise a plan to have one of the other guys call and summon him for an "emergency". It was his way of bailing but still being the good guy.

Randy Orton only laughed at that. Rarely did he take women back to his hotel room anyway. That required way too much effort and usually turned out to be too much trouble. His tour bus was more than good enough. And best of all when he was done, when he had gotten off, he could simply kick them out, sometimes still in their bras and panties. And he did so without a second thought. John and the other guys loved to tell him how cold he was, how wrong he was for treating women like that but Randy didn't feel bad. Those women had no self respect. They were groupies, ring rats. They were dirty whores. They knew what they were getting into, in fact they chased after it. They deserved everything they got. It was just a fuck and a couple of drinks…nothing more. They knew the deal and if they didn't, he'd be sure to make it more than clear. Randy sighed as he reached over and mixed a shot of Ketel One vodka with his sugar free Red Bull. The plan was to drive to the next city but all of a sudden, he had other ideas. They were in New Orleans after all. There had to be something to get into and whatever it was, he was going to find it. It was sure to make for a semi interesting rest of the evening.

"Randy!"

Randy rolled his eyes as he heard knocking on the bus door and someone screaming his name. He knew immediately who it was.

"DiBiase, what the hell do you want?"

"Let me in, man."

"No. Go away."

"Come on, Ran. It's important," Teddy whined.

Most of the guys in the locker room looked up to him. Randy did not find it flattering nor did he accept the responsibility that came with being a role model. They got on his nerves. His kinship with Cena was real but everybody else in that locker room could go to hell as far as he was concerned. When he needed them, he expected them to be there. When he didn't, he expected them to disappear.

"Fine, come in but make it quick…and don't ever call me Ran again."

Teddy burst through the doors, permanent pout etched on his handsome face.

"I need to talk to you."

Poor Teddy looked frantic.

"Who peed in your Jack Daniels?"

"I…dude, what the fuck? It smells like rotten pussy in here."

Randy shrugged.

"Yeah, she was pretty gross. Don't know what I was thinking. Betty or Beverly or Bridget…something like that, who gives a fuck? What are you doing here, man? What do you want?"

"I'm pissed off."

"Who the hell do I look like, fucking Dr. Phil? You think I give a shit?"

"No but come on. I don't have anyone else to talk to. All the guys already went out or they are headed to the next city and Cody is hooking up with some chick."

"Make it fast. You've got three minutes…"

"Did you see what happened with my match out there tonight?"

Randy shook his head.

"Nope. Came in just in time to shoot my promo, do my match and get the hell out of dodge. Why?"

"But I thought Vince said we had to be there for the whole show and be in the arena by 2 p.m. every Monday before RAW."

"Vince did say that but what's he gonna do, fire me?"

Randy had a point. He was one of the top billers. Disrespectful and rebellious or not, Vince's hands were tired.

"I wrestled Phil tonight," Teddy continued.

"And?"

"I was supposed to win via DQ."

"So? Look, get to the point or get off my bus. I have better things to do than listen to you cry."

"I didn't want to. Eveyone knows Phil has that hip injury so he'll be out of action for a while. I think they're gonna have him do commentary with The King and with Cole. Anyway, they're jumping through hoops to make sure he has this glorious exit, plus he's probably gonna get a huge push when he gets back. Where does that leave guys like me? I'll tell you, in the dust somewhere. It's crazy. And it's not fair. I work my ass off. Not only that, I'm a third generation Superstar. I'm tired of playing the mid car and jobbing to douche bags or getting bullshit wins like they wanted me to do tonight."

"Then do something about it," Randy challenged.

"I did…or at least I tried to. You know they were short on refs tonight so they had that new chick Memphis or Nashville or whatever the hell her name is officiate my match."

"What?" Randy's ears perked up like a German Shepherd's. "Memphis was your referee tonight?"

"Yeah. Anyway, she's a girl and everybody knows why Vince hired her in the first place. I, I figured I could change things up a little bit. I didn't tell her or Phil and I just started going crazy on the offense and the plan was to hit Dream Street and force him to sell and let me win by pinfall."

"What happened?"

"That stupid bitch happened. She totally intefered, man. You should have seen her all up in my business like she owns the place. I was so pissed off, I pushed her."

"You pushed her?"

"Damn right."

"What did she do,cry?"

Teddy hung his head.

"No…she, she, she…"

"She what? Spit it out, retard."

"She pushed me back…hard."

Randy had to laugh.

"You let some stupid girl push you around on national television?"

"She humiliated me, Randy. My dad was watching and she made me look like a complete asshole."

"Not hard to do but I concur."

"I'm serious, dude."

"Alright, alright."

"I had the perfect plan and she had to ruin it. She fixed it so Phil still got to do his spot and I got the win on a countout, a countout, man. Can you believe it? I'm so pissed. I want to get her back. I don't like her, no one does but I need help. She's out of control. Vince came up to us after the match and you know what happened? She didn't even get in trouble. In fact, he praised her, practically kissed her ass. Then he had the nerve to yell at me in front of everyone. Called me a sniveling jackass."

"You are a sniveling jackass," Randy smirked.

"Come on, man…"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Help me teach her a lesson. I want her to look like a fool just like she did to me. You're the leader of that locker room. People fear you. They respect you. They'll listen to you."

Randy thought for a minute. Teddy was a moron most of the time but he did have a point. Memphis was a bitch. She was on a high horse with her nose so far in the air that she couldn't see straight. She walked around with a sense of entitlement like she was going to take over. She had dared stand up to him and disrespect him. She'd had the nerve to butt in his business with Hannah and on top of that, when he had shown her a little mercy and graciously offered a sympathy fuck, she'd had the nerve to turn him down. Randy did not like her at all and had decided weeks ago that the WWE would be a better place without her. He did carry a lot of clout backstage but probably not enough to just go up to Vince McMahon and demand she be fired. He would have to get rid of her another way.

"Memphis is an annoying bitch. I can't stand her."

"That makes two of us."

"Vince has plans for her, you know he's not just gonna get rid of her."

"I figured that," Teddy grumbled. "What can we do?"

An evil grin appeared on Randy's face.

"We can't force anyone's hand to fire her but we can force her to quit."

"What did you have in mind?"

"She tries to play this tough role but she is so transparent that it is pathetic. She's not tough, she's a punk inside. She cares way too much what people think of her. Well, you hate her and I hate her and if we get everyone else to hate her, she'll fold quicker than a bad Poker hand."

"Sounds good," Teddy grinned. "I'm game. How do we go about it?"

"Nothing like some good old fashioned hazing. Ribbing is an age old tradition in wrestling, right? Harmless fun and pranks. Let's say we turn up the heat a little bit. They say if you can't stand the heat, then get out of the kitchen. If we get a few of the other boys on board and make it a little hot and she can't handle it…not our fault, right?"

"Right," Teddy put his hands in the air. "We're innocent."

"Cool," Randy bumped his fist before taking another swig of his drink. "Operation Get This Stupid Cunt Out Of My Locker Room is in effect."

"When?"

"Immediately. Why waste precious time, right? Just have a few drinks, calm down from tonight, go get laid if any woman in her right man will sleep with your goofy ass, and tomorrow in the next city we make this trick regret the day she ever signed that contract in Stamford."

"Hell yeah," Teddy readily agreed.

Randy sat back, that classic Viper stare, the one he used on television to tantalize the fans and intimidate his opponents, spread across his face. He had a score to settle with Memphis Kramer and now it was time to make things even.


	10. Rite Of Passage

Memphis hurried to finish her late lunch. After eating, she had a meeting schduled with some of the head honchos in Creative, then Vince McMahon himself wanted to speak to her. It had been exactly two weeks to the date since her eventful RAW debut and those few minuutes on that Monday night had quite literally changed her life and career. Instantly she had gone from locker room outcast to the WWE's most in demand official. Vince had clearly been impressed by her quick save of the CM Punk Ted DiBiase . After that, she had been scheduled to referee not one but two matches the following week on RAW. Her name had been trending on various Internet search engines and all the wrestling web sites were buzzing about sports entertainment's hottest new commodity. Even as she made her way down the ramp to the ring for the RAW, Superstars and house shows some of the fans had taken a liking and brought signs with her name on it. They popped for her whenever she came out. What a difference one night could make.

Her newfound popularity with her bosses and the WWE Universe did little to improve relations backstage. The male referees, seemingly jealous and suspicious of her, continued to shun her. None of the talent, male or female bothered to talk to or acknowledge her. Memphis was a lone wolf, even more so when Phil had gone out for two weeks to nurse his injury. For whatever reason they still didn't like her and she didn't know if they ever would but for the time being, she had to put those feelings and worries on the backburner. Her career was blowing up and she knew she had to keep up the momentum and keep striking while the iron was hot.

She had a few minutes before the meeting so Memphis decided to head to the locker room and change into her work clothing beforehand. After talking with Creative, her next stop would be Production to take a look at the card for the evening. Despite no one talking to her and that ominous notion of being the unpopular new kid on the block, none of the other wrestlers had dared try to pull a stunt and throw off a match like Teddy had. They ignored her but their disdain was still present. Everyone knew ribbing was one of the most popular activities backstage and now the jokes had been taken to a new level. Though no one said anything, Memphis was no fool. She knew the sugar in the salt shaker and the hot sauce that myseteriously had managed to drench one of her meals was no accident. Humming a tune to herself, she fished in her purse when she heard her cell phone ring.

"Hey," she smiled when she saw who it was.

"What are you up to?"

"Headed to go change. What about you?"

"Just left the chiropractor. Got some heat therapy and an adjustment on my hip, which I needed after that unfortunate groping incident with airport security last week when I flew back to Chicago."

Memphis just laughed.

"I miss you, Punk. I have no one to make me laugh when you're not around."

"One more week, Dollface, and I'll be back traveling with you guys."

"Awesome. Are you excited about doing the whole commentary thing?"

"Sure. It's a chance to show my more charming side."

"I'm sure," she rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I think it'll be fun. You're gonna do great."

"It'll be different. Besides, now that you're taking over RAW it will give me something to do."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, when you're in there doing your whole officiating thing trying to be all serious and no nonsense and look cute at the same time, I'll be at the announce table ring side picking my nose and making funny faces. Anything to make you laugh."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh but I would."

She frowned.

"Who am I talking to? Of course you would but don't even dream about it, dude. I'm serious. Don't you dare. I'll kill you."

"Ah, you know you love me. I'm annoying yet adorable like one of those little Furby things."

"I'll bite on the annoying part."

"Anyway until then, I am sitting at my house drinking my diet soda and relaxing with my thoughts."

She shook her head.

"You and those damned diet sodas. You're like addicted to them."

That was the truth. Phil Brooks loved his diet soda…Diet Coke, Diet Pepsi, Diet Mt. Dew, Diet Dr. Pepper, Diet Sprite…it didn't matter.

"I'm allowed one vice."

"You should totally incorporate that into your act during the commetary. That obsession you have is actually quite priceless."

"Oh I fully intend to bring my refreshing beverages with me to ringside. The first fool that knocks it over when they tear up the announce table is gonna force me to come out of this temproary medical retirement."

"Seriously, dude. How are you? Is everything okay?"

"I'm good. It's weird not traveling. I guess I miss it. It's the biggest part of my life but the r& r is good, I can't complain. I've seen a couple of doctors too. The prognosis is good. Like I said, it was more of a precaution them taking me out these few months with the timing and all. Once I rest for a few months, I should be back in the ring hopefully in time for Mania."

Memphis closed her eyes.

"Mmmm, Wrestlemania. I know it's a long time away but I can't stop thinking aboout it. I know it's way too presumptious to even think about it but the chance to referee a match there would be way beyond awesome. I'm talking about a real life dream come true."

"Stranger things have happened."

"I couldn't imagine."

"Why not? You're like the talk of the wrestling world right now. Everyone wants to know about that hot new referee."

She raised her eyebrow.

"You think I'm hot?"

"I was just repeating what all the people Googling you are saying."

"But you said it too," she teased.

"You're okay…you know in a not ugly, not plastic looking sort of way."

"You're such a poet with your words," she giggled.

"Anyway, you're blowing up, girl. You know what you have to do now."

"What's that?"

"Open up a Twitter account."

"Oh hell no."

"Oh hell yes," Phil said. "It's a rite of passage. You're a WWE Superstar now."

"I refuse."

"Why?"

"Because it's stupid. Writing little twitters to let people know that I am at the airport, or driving in my car, or just waking up from a nap. That's lame."

"Watch it now and it's call tweeting not little twitters."

"Look at you all sensitive about your little Twitter account. You know, I am outdone that you're actually into that. Kudos to you for giving shout outs and wishing your followers happy birthdays. That's cute."

"Ha ha."

"Just kidding. You know I have to tease you some sort of way. I'm bored without you."

"I knew you loved me."

"Are you gonna be watching tonight?"

"Maybe. I had planned on catching up on It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia."

"You better not. You can watch that any time. How often do you get to see your best work pal kick ass and maintain law and order in a wrestling ring on national television.?"

"Okay, you talked me into it. Danny DeVito can wait. What matches do you have?"

"Don't know yet," she said as she made her way to the locker room. "I usually don't find out until the big Production meeting. I'd like to do the main event tonight. Probably won't happen but a girl can dream, right?"

"You'll be fine. Besides, if you had a Twitter account, I could be sending you charming and witty tweets all night while you're working."

"That definetly sweetens the pot," she said sarcastically as she opened up her locker.

"You gonna stay on the phone with me while you change into your stripes? Kinky."

Memphis opened up her mouth to respond but nothing came out. Instead she stood horrified.

"Shit…" she muttered.

"What's wrong?"

She stood for a second, trying to wrap her head around the scene before her. She was stunned. Pissed off and stunned.

"You'll never fucking guess what just happened."

"Humor me."

"Remember all those stupid little pranks I've been telling you about?"

"The hot sauce and all the other lame petty stuff, yeah."

Memphis bit her lip.

"Well, it looks like some asshole just stepped up their game."

"What happened?"

She looked around the locker room. It looked like a tornado had passed through on her end. Her locker had been jimmied open and all her belongings had been strewn about.

"Dammitt," she muttered. "My clothes…my stuff…it's everywhere."

"Yeah, that's another classic one, the good old let's fuck with people's clothes. Been there done that."

Memphis began picking her stuff up and doing a count to see if it was all there. As she put everything back, she leaned down to pick up her black panties. As soon as she did, Memphis gasped and dropped them immediately.

"Oh my God!"

"What now?"

She was horrified.

"Oh my God, oh my God…"

"Memphis," Phil spoke in a more serious and concerned tone.

"My…my underwear were on the bottom of the locker floor. I picked them up and there's, there's, there's…"

"What?"

Memphis was genuinely shaken.

"There is stuff all over the crotch."

"What stuff?"

"I don't know. It looks like…oh gross. I think…I think it's cum."

"Whoa," Phil fell silent.

"I can't believe this, this is not fucking happening to me," she shook her head. "This is crazy. This is disgusting. I mean, who does something like this?"

"Hold on. Look, I know this is gonna sound weird but smell your underwear."

"What?"

"Just smell…"

"Punk, hell no. That's gross. There is no way I'm gonna smell…"

"No, it's just that I think I've heard of that rib before. I told you to smell it because it's probably just lotion. Of course the whole idea is to make you think it's jizz but it's really not."

Memphis cringed, vomiting in her mouth a little bit as she picked up her underwear by the corners and brought them closer to her face. She could only pray and hope that Phil was right. If it was what she thought it was, she was seriously going to flip out.

"Oh God…"

"Did you…"

She breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"You're right," she exhaled. "It's lotion."

"Good," he sighed from half a nation away.

"I mean, it could have been worse, a whole hell of a lot worse but still. These are my clothes. These are my personal belongings. Where the hell is the respect and common decency? What gives someone the right to destroy my stuff? I find it really creepy that someone went through my stuff and had the nerve to put their hands on my freaking is not funny, just like it wasn't funny when they screwed around with my food."

"You're right, I know. Look, I'm sorry that happened to you. It's definetly not cool. The guys need to back off."

"What am I going to do now, Punk?"

"Is your referee stuff ruined?"

She shook her head.

"No."

"Then at least you're good for your match. As far as the underwear, don't know what to tell you except to wear the ones you have on already or go commando."

"This is crazy," she mumbled. "I am so beyond pissed right now."

"Whoever is doing this is trying to get a rise out of you. Don't let them. As mad as you are Memphis, don't let is show because you'll be giving them exactly what they want. Once you do that, they've got you where they want you. It's petty and childish and stupid but they'll get bored eventually and stop. Ribs are another rite of passage. I went through it too, being on the giving and the receiving end. They are probably just going harder on you because of the situation but trust me, it'll pass."

Memphis let out a breath.

"No it won't," she said quietly.

"Yes, it will."

"No, it won't, Punk. Don't you get it? This isn't an initiation or a harmless prank or innocent ribbing. It's more than that, much more. You hear what these guys are doing, taking bets on when I'm out of here. And that's exactly what they're trying to do. It's not gonna stop. It's going to get worse and this is just the beginning."

Memphis closed her eyes. She felt like hitting something but there was nothing really she could do. All she could do was deal with it, as wrong and unfair as it was. She was on to them. They were trying their damnest to get rid of her and Memphis had a sinking feeling that things were going to get a whole lot worse before they got better.


	11. Voices

_Randy Orton stood victorious in the ring. He was a true Superstar in every sense of the word. The fans adored him and like him or not, the other talent in the back knew he was a formidable opponent to be reckoned with. He had everything anyone could want…fame, accolades, plenty of money, and every material possession one could ask for. He even had the respect of the nameless, faceless opponent who was lying motionless beneath him on the floor of the ring. Randy had it all. Grabbing his championship belt, he sauntered out of the ring and up the ramp past the hundreds clamoring to get a feel or glimpse of him. Thousands called out his name in unison but in the end, he could only hear one familiar voice in particular._

"_Randy…"_

_The voice was so soft, barely audible but at the same time so alive in his mind. He looked up and the entrance to the Titantron that led to the Gorilla was illuminated in a bright white almost blinding light. He could make out the small figure as she walked, almost floated closer to him._

"_What are you doing here?" he asked. "How did you get here?"_

"_I'm always here…and there," she pointed to his head and his heart._

_He was frozen._

"_You're not real," he shook his head. "You're in my head."_

"_I am real. I am the voices in your head. I am what is left of your conscience…"_

"_Stop it!"_

"_Randy…"_

"_Go away!"_

"_You promised me, Randy. You said you would always be there. Why did you leave me? Why didn't you come back for me?"_

_His jaw tightened._

"_I was going to come back…"_

"_Liar! This is all your fault! You did this to me! You did this! How could you let this happen?"_

_Her voice became louder, a shrill agony filled screech so loud that it brought Randy to his knees. He put his hands to his ears, dark red blood oozing from the crevices onto his fingers. The light was getting brighter and more intense. His head pounded and the sounds from the crowd turned from cheers to chants of "Why, Randy?" She was saying it too and the walls of the arena were closing in on him._

"_Noooooo!"_

"Noooooo!"

Randy Orton bolted straight up out of his sleep with so much force that the velocity propelled him right out of bed. He landed on the floor with a thud, a cold sweat pouring off his body. His heart raced and he felt like he might be sick.

"Randy! Randy! Are you okay?"

His blue eyes darted around, adjusting to the darkness that was only broken by the traces of moonlight that seeped in through the windows. It was nighttime and he wasn't in some random city and arena facing Opponent X. He was in his home, a two story five bedroom, three bathroom house on a private lake in the community of High Ridge, Missouri, near where he had grown up in St. Louis. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the dark ripples of the water outside. It was dark but the view was still magnificent as the entire house had been uniquely designed with an open concept that used sliding glass doors and beach house glass walls.

Standing on his feet, he looked up at his bed and the small figure in it that was wearing only a bra and panties. Her name was Holly Fletcher and she was someone he had known ever since junior high school. She was a dark haired beauty, the exotic looking kind with beautiful eyes and olive skin, just the way he liked. They had met back when they were both teenagers and she was a pretty and popular cheeleader. They had dated off and on throughout the high school years, nothing too serious but had managed to remain in casual contact. She was someone who didn't actually get on his nerves. Not that he wanted a relationship but Holly was good enough to warm his empty bed sometimes on those off nights when he was home. She was one of the few women he ever allowed to spend the night but even Holly knew her boundaries. Randy was sullen and moody and his changes were often frequent, intense and unprovoked. It was a friends with benefits type of thing if you could even call them friends at all. Holly wasn't his girlfriend, she was far from it. Randy Orton didn't do the whole girlfriend thing arrangement was a mutual understanding and it just worked out for the two of them.

"I'm fine," he said gruffly, walking over to the huge bay window and staring out of it.

He rubbed his eyes.

"You're drenched," she observed.

"It's okay."

"The bed is wet," she noted where his sweat had soaked the sheets.

"Holly, I said it's fine! Goddammitt, shut up!"

She took that as her cue to keep quiet. She sat silently in bed just watching him as Randy pulled up a nearby chair. He didn't get back in bed right away because if he did, he knew eventually he would have to go back to sleep. Sleep was the last thing he wanted or needed on nights like those. Those damned bad dreams haunted him and once they started, they seemed to last all night. He couldn't take them but he couldn't escape them either. They were a part of him.

The voices in his head weren't just a gimmick, they were a reality. Every night, every day he heard that voice, her voice. It taunted him and it was a conscious effort to ignore it. It fueled his malice so much so that he incorporated it into his wrestling act. His entrance theme talked about the voices in his head that counseled him, that understood him. If people only knew but then again, they never would. He wouldn't let them into that private, sacred part of his world. He had let one other person in before and it had turned out to be a mistake. Now she was gone too.

Walking downstairs in the dark, Randy, barefoot and clad only in his boxer briefs, had stumbled into the kitchen. He retrieved a glass and filled it with cold tap water. He took a few sips before splashing some on his face. Looking around, he saw the cordless phone to the land line lying on the counter. Randy picked it up and held it between his fingers for a long time. He needed someone to talk to and only one person had ever been allowed to see him that vulnerable. Grabbing a cigarette from one of his many packs, he put it between his lips and lit it before dialing the number. It rang three times before she picked up.

"Hello?" came the sleepy murmur.

"Sam…"

He called out her name with a sense of urgency that surprised them both.

"Randy…"

"I needed to talk to you."

"It's three in the morning."

"I needed to talk to you," he repeated.

She sighed.

"What's wrong?"

He took a puff of the cigarette.

"I don't know," he replied honestly after a few seconds of thinking. "Everything, I guess."

"Is it the nightmares again?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

He and Samantha Speno had dated seriously for over two years and she spent many nights with him in his home and on the road the times she traveled with him. They had met at a local bar in St. Louis during a time he had been out of work with an injury. She was the sweet, demure pretty girl next door and instantly he had been smitten. Their chemistry together had been undeniable and soon the pair had become inseparable. She was the first woman he had met in a while that didn't fawn all over him and throw herself at his feet. She was also the first person he had loved since, well, since…her. But time and circumstance had changed everything. Eventually his foot had healed and he had gone back on the road with the WWE. When he had, it hadn't taken him long to fall back into his bad behavior and old ways. Sam had not been happy in the least hearing the rumors of him smoking marijuana, drinking heavily, being disrespectful to fans and co-workers and above all having sex with strange, random women. His legendary temper had blown up one too many times in front of her as well and as much as she had loved him, she had called it quits, pulling the plug on an unhealthy and heartbreaking relationship.

"I don't know," he sighed.

"What do you need?" she asked softly. "What can I do to help you?"

He stared aimlessly out the window.

"I don't know."

"It never changes with you, Ran. You shut yourself off, you don't communicate your feelings, you become that monster of a man that we both know isn't really you on the inside."

"I miss you, Sam," he quietly admitted.

"No, you don't, sweetie."

Randy swallowed hard.

"Is he there?" he asked. "Is he lying beside you right now?"

She had taken some time to herself following the breakup but had moved on and had eventually fallen in love with a handsome young attorney by the name of Dean MacDonald.

"Yes, Randy, don't do this, please…"

He smirked to himself. Fucking lawyers. God, he hated lawyers. Of all people, she had to move on with some law school geek.

"Then I guess I'll leave you alone then. I'll let you go."

"Randy, I really care about you. You have to know that. A part of me always will. I want to help you, I tried to help you for two years but you need something more than I can give you. You have to fight to face those demons and come to terms with your past. Maybe then you can be the man I know you can be."

He rolled his eyes. Why had he even bothered?

"I have to go, Sam. I'll talk to you later."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Like you care. Does it matter?"

"It does matter to me."

"No, it doesn't. Look, I shouldn't have called. It was a mistake. You ruined my life, Sam, and I hate you for it," he said in a cold, delierbate tone.

Words like that from him had hurt her so many times before but now she was used to it. She had built up a wall and incidents like that had been one of the many factors that had led to their undoing. Sam had promised herself that his hurtful words and actions would no longer affect her, that was the whole point of walking away but she had been with Randy a long time and had given him a little piece of her heart. They say whenever you truly loved someone, when you made love to someone, a piece of your soul would always be with them. If that was the case, like it or not, she and Randy would always be connected.

He pressed the button to end the call. It was quick and easy and he wished he had such buttons like that for real life visits. He had been left in a moment of temporary confusuon and weakess from the nightmare and like an idiot had reached out to what was familiar. Immediately he regretted it. Holding the empty water glass between his fingers, Randy squeezed until it broke, letting shards of glass land everywhere.

"I think I'm gonna go."

He looked up and saw Holly who had gotten dressed. He nodded and walked away, she could let herself out. With his right hand bleeding, he walked to the downstairs bathroom and turned on the shower. Before getting in, he poured a shot of Jack Daniels in another glass and stripped, stepping in underneath the hot stream of water. He slid to the floor, sipping his drink, head against the wall. He was a mess. Everything was a mess. And he had no idea how to fix it. He could start by silencing those damned voices in his head but they just wouldn't go away. She wouldn't go away. It killed him. The water washed away the blood on his hands only in the literal sense. The voices were still there, they wouldn't stop. He had told Sam that he hated her but nothing could be further from the truth. Randy Orton didn't hate Sam or anyone else in his life. Randy hated himself.


	12. Enough Is Enough

"Wait for me," Memphis squealed.

She walked briskly through the Milwaukee airport headed to catch a plane to the WWE's next destination Savannah, Georgia. Her partner in crime, Phil Brooks, better known as CM Punk had returned to wreak havoc at the RAW announce table in lieu of the wrestling ring. He was a pure genius when it came to both and Memphis was just happy to have the man who had become a good friend in such a short amount of time back by her side. He'd been out for a few weeks due to a nagging hip injury that was being rested for the upcoming new year and of course Wrestlemania. But he was once again traveling with the company and Memphis couldn't have been more thrilled. She had truly missed his dry, sarcastic and off the wall sense of humor. She had missed his companionship. He was a great guy and she didn't know what she would do without him. The man she affectionately called Punk was her only ally.

"Catch me if you can!" he bellowed.

She rolled her eyes. They were at a very busy airport in a big city and he was being a complete idiot running around playing with their luggage cart. She complained to his face but couldn't admit how lonely it had been without him. He had missed a lot. He had missed her sudden overnight rise to fame that had taken everyone by surprise. He had also missed a series of pathetic and juvenile pranks that had been played on her. Though she couldn't prove it, she had a sneaking suspicion who was behind it all. One night her rental car had been moved making her think it had been stolen. Another night when she had been refereeing matches, the guys had switched spots in order to trip her up and make her look like an asshole on national television. Memphis had taken it all in stride.

"Punk, would you stop it?" she finally caught up to him.

"What? Just trying to have a little fun, besides, you should be ashamed of yourself making an injured man carry your bags."

"Shut up, I did not make you."

"Don't deny it," he loudly and dramatically admonished her, rubbing his hip for extra emphasis. "Ever since you got famous and went all Hollywood on me, I've been nothing but your errand boy, your little bitch. It hurts, Memphis, it really hurts. Right here in the heart."

Her cheeks reddened as two older ladies who had no idea who they were and what he was talking about huffed and shot her an evil stare as if she really were mistreating her friend.

"I am gonna kill you," she muttered under her breath.

"Oh the threats," he got louder. "You're impossible these days."

"Punk…"

He turned to the little old ladies.

"You should hear what I caught her doing when we left the hotel today. Go ahead, tell them, Memphis. Admit it."

Memphis frowned as she tried to remember what he could be talking about

"What? Are you talking about when I was Googling myself?"

"For the love of God!" the two women exchanged horrified glances before stalking off.

Memphis put her hands on her hips. It had all been a set up, a stupid joke. The women obviously had no idea what Google was and Phil had just made it look like she had been engaging in an activity far more sinister and naughty.

"You are awful," she shook her head. "Absolutely impossibly awful."

"Admit it, that was a good one," he grinned, quite satisfied with himself.

"You got me, definitely well played. Not as ruthless as the pranks of your counterparts so that is a bit of a relief…"

"My ribs are actually funny and they're harmless. Those guys are going too far. Speaking of the idiots, have you figured out who it is yet?"

She shook her head.

"I have a good idea but then again since everyone pretty much hates me backstage, the lineup of prospects is quite endless."

"Well, I haven't heard anything in the locker room."

"Of course not. They all know you and I hang out. Hell, they probably see you as the enemy now."

"You think I give a rat's ass? Look, I don't have a problem with anyone in that locker room. The WWE is like one big happy slightly, okay really dysfunctional family. Everybody has a place. But what they're doing to you is seriously messed up and I don't like it. I want no part of it. I don't know who is doing it and if I did, I would say something to them because now it's starting to get out of control. Ribs and pranks are funny. Harassment? Not so much. I don't know what they want from you."

"I do. They want me to give up, give in. They want me to cry. They want me to break. Punk, they want me to quit but I'm not. I won't. I refuse to give them the satisfaction."

"Maybe you should say something to Vince. How much longer are you going to go through this?"

She shrugged.

"Until they grow up and realize that I am above their stupidity and immaturity and that I'm not going anywhere. Don't get me wrong, it sucks. It really sucks but what can you do? Crying to Vince won't get me any respect, it'll only make things worse."

"Well, I've got your back. Don't let them get you down, Dollface."

"Did I give you permission to call me that?"

"No but you like it."

Memphis surpressed a grin.

"How presumptious of you, Punk. And just how do you know I like it?"

"Because I'm cute and witty and adorable and charming. Kind of like Elmo."

She shot him a weird look.

"Elmo? Really, Punk?"

"What? Come on, I needed an analogy. I was desperate. I can't be funny 24 7, you know. It's a tough job."

"But somebody has to do it. Come on, Slow Poke. We have to get to our gate."

"So I saw you being interviewed before we left the arena."

"What?"

"That dude from WWE Magazine."

She rolled her eyes.

"I would hardly call that an interview. They are doing this bit for the upcoming issue, a little Q and A with different people in the company asking the question of the month which happened to be, What Was The One Thing You Splurged On With Your First Big WWE Paycheck?"

"What did you say?"

Memphis grinned as she lifted her brand new designer handbag.

"This is an actual Fendi, Punk. Do you hear me? Fendi!"

"Preach on, Sister."

"This is the first real designer bag I've ever owned, not counting the dozens of knockoffs I scored from the old guy in the wheelchair when I hit up Chinatown. Hell no, I actually marched my happy ass in Saks 5th Avenue and put down 3000 big ones for this gorgeous cream colored all purpose purse with the cute little Peek A Boo top handle. What do you think? Do you love it? You have to love it. I know you do."

"I love it so much that I would turn a cartwheel right here in the middle of General Mitchell International if I weren't in excruciating pain and oh yeah…if I weren't a dude. Memphis, you're killing me. You've got to find a girlfriend. If I hear about your dumb pocket book one more time and God forbid if you ask me to go shopping with you…"

"What?"

"You'll leave me with no choice but to surrender my man card…and my balls. I will literally have to detach them."

"Well, at least you'll look dapper doing it. I'm serious. I wasn't digging the long hair or the shaved do with the King Kong chest hair…so not cute. But this…the clean cut, it works for you. Totally GQ."

"More like BS," he frowned.

"You know you love me," she teased as they entered the final security line.

The lines were heavy and when the two finally made it to the screening check point, they removed their shoes and put their carry on items through the machine. Memphis went first and tried not to chuckle at Punk who was making faces at her as she was groped by a 60 year old TSA agent. When she was cleared, it was his turn. Then they went to retrieve their bags and laptops.

"Excuse me, ma'am, can you step out of line?" the agent asked Memphis.

"Um, is there a problem?"

"Please step out of line."

She sighed, cursing out loud as Phil followed her over to a more private corner.

"What seems to be the problem?" she asked. "Is this just a routine search?"

"I'm afraid not. Are you aware of the federal regulations regarding which and how much liquid, aerosol, and gels can be allowed on carryons?"

"Yes sir. I fly all the time as part of my job. There must be some sort of mistake. All my lotions and perfumes, shampoos and stuff are on the checked baggage that went under the plane."

"Then there shouldn't be a problem," he asked as he opened her prized Fendi bag with gloved hands.

An armed guard had joined the three of them. The bag opened and the foulest stench began to fill the air, causing them to all gag.

"What the fuck?" Punk wretched.

Memphis disgusted but curious leaned over and gagged as she peered into her purse.

"Miss, is this some sort of joke?" the officer, not amused demanded.

"Oh my God," she stumbled back into Phil. "I…I think I'm gonna be sick."

The TSA agent, red faced, cleared his throat.

"Is there a reason…feces is in your bag?"

"Oh my God…"

"Ma'am…"

She turned to Phil.

"Those ignorant, disgusting fucking bastards."

Phil, at a loss for words, ran a hand through his short hair.

"I can't believe that. That…is crazy. That is gross. Memphis, man, I'm sorry…that, geez, I don't even know what to say. I mean, at least it looks like dog crap, not that that makes it better."

"No Punk, I guess it doesn't," she whispered tersely through pursed lips.

She bit her lip, closing her eyes totally stunned and repulsed.

"Ma'am, you are going to have to come with us," the officer spoke. "It is not in accordance with federal aviation laws to transport feces…human or animal on an airplane. I know these purses are generally used to carry small dogs…"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she got mad. "Do you think I did this? Do you even think I knew about this? Do you honestly think I would knowingly carry around a dog, much less dog shit, especially in a three thouand dollar bag?"

"Calm down, Memphis. It's okay," Phil tried to comfort her by putting a hand on her shoulder.

"No, Punk, this is anything but okay!"

"Miss, you still have to come with us for questioning."

"Why?"

"It is TSA procedure."

"Great," she moaned. "Just great!"

"Come on, I'll go with you," Phil offered.

"I just can't believe this," she then turned to airport security. "I did not do this. You have to believe me. Listen, I work for the WWE but I am also a licensed attorney in the state of New York. My record is completely clean. I had no idea about this…God, I am just as horrified as you are but this is a prank."

"A prank?"

"Yes and not a very good one. It's not funny, it is revolting and it's sick and…"

"Do you have any idea who may have done this?" they questioned as they escorted her to the security office.

Memphis grimmaced, feeling her anger simmer at an all time high. People were starting to look and she knew she had to control herself and not make too much of a public scene. She was a sort of celebrity now and even the slightest incident had the ability to land on the Internet dirt sheets. But for Memphis, it was more than that. Not only had she been publicly humiliated, once again her personal belongings had been tampered with, her expensive bag and all its contents had been ruined by dog poop, not to mention both she and Phil were going to miss their flight subsequetly making them late for work. As if that wasn't bad enough, federal agents were detaining her for interrogation. She had put up with the pranks and the harrassment with dignity and the attitude of taking a higher road but now it had been taken to a whole new level. Would it ever stop? How far were they willing to go? When would enough be enough?

"I am going to _kill _Randy Orton!"


	13. Loud And Clear

Randy Orton stood with his arms folded and a bored look on his face. After missing weeks and weeks of pre match meetings, Vince McMahon had finally put his foot down and said something to him, hinting at some more bullshit disciplinary action if Randy didn't start fulfilling his responsbilities. Creative put the matches together but it was largely left up to the talent to come up with spots and different moves to work with each other. It was a ritual that typically took place in those early hours before the live broadcasts. Randy rarely showed up and it had begun to cause problems with the other guys unsure of how to work the match with him when it was live. According to the latest storyline, the leader of the Nexus, Wade Barrett had forced John Cena into facing Randy Orton. Though tight in real life, their onscreen relationship had been tense, one more of mutual respect than friendship. Any time the company's top two Superstars were being pitted against each other in a mtachup, it was sure to get the fans excited and more importantly boost ticket sales.

A few of the referees and other backstage officials along with some of the other wrestlers milled about at ringside. Inside the ring, John was developing their match from beginning to end, running various spots by Randy. Orton was unimpressed and seeminly unintersted. A rebel in every sense of the word, he was annoyed that Vince's threats had even been enough to make him show up for the ridiculous meeting in the first place. It was the last place he wanted to be. He'd had a late night partying just a few hours before and more than anything, he wanted to pass out on his bus and catch up on a few z's before showtime.

"So then, I'm gonna go for the AA and you counter and…Randy."

"What?" Randy looked irritated.

John rolled his eyes.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Randy shrugged.

"Not really."

"Great. So I've just spent the last half hour carefully planning the first four minutes of an eight minute match and you haven't heard a word I said?"

"Basically."

"Great man. Really. That's just great."

Randy smirked.

"You are such a little girl sometimes. Relax. We've been at this a long time, man. We know what we're doing in that ring. I know you like the back of my hand and vice versa. We don't need to stand here like we're green and put together a spot by spot match. We can just improv it and make it look good. Any fucks up, we can cover it, no sweat."

John Cena let out a sigh. Randy had a point but that was irrelevant.

"I don't get you, dude. Why can't you just do what you're supposed to do? Why is everything an argument?"

"Whatever. Just finish up what the hell you're trying to do so I can go. Honestly bro, you're just wasting my time and I have better things to do."

What was the use in arguing? Ignoring his friend's attitude, John continued with what he was saying. John was a thinker, a planner, a meticulous perfectionist obessed with every aspect of his matches. Randy was more of a feeler. He functioned on instinct and natural talent alone. His raw ability was his saving grace. He didn't have to work as hard as some of the other guys, a fact which only fueled his egotism. So instead of actively participating, he leaned against the ropes tuning out the words of his friend. He was actually pretending to be somewhere else, not even paying attention to his suuroundings. He didn't even notice the pair of eyes watching him from the Gorilla. He did not notice when the owner of those eyes marched right down that ramp headed directly for him. She climbed between the ropes and stared dead at him, grabbing his arm roughly when he did not look at her.

"I want to talk to you."

Her eyes were steely and her voice angry. She was looking him dead in the eye with not an ounce of fear.

"What the hell do you want?"

"You know what I want."

"Actually I don't and I certainly don't have time to stand here and listen to you babble and have a meltdown so if you don't mind, just get to what this is all about."

"Like you don't know."

Randy pretended to think for a minute.

"The fact that you're a loser who never deserved to get hired in this company in the first place? The fact that you have a big mouth and you're on my last nerve? Okay, maybe that's not it. Let's see what else I got. Maybe it's that time of the month…"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Memphis angrily shook her head. "You know, I used to just think you're a world class jerk but now I'm starting to think it's deeper than that."

"Your compliments amuse me."

"I'm undecided if you're crazy or just plain evil because it has to be one of the two. Yeah maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Things happen but you seriously overreacted on that one and we both know it's true. Ever since, you've treated me like dirt and made my life here in this company a living hell. And for what? I've done nothing to you."

All eyes were on them. The few people who had been near the ring were starting to stare and now curious spectators were coming out of the woodwork. Randy was seething. He literally could not stand this woman and this was exactly why. Stepping closer to her, he sneered.

"You know what you've done."

Memphis was unphased by his anger. In fact, she had expected it.

"You mean stand up to you? Look you in the eye? Treat you like an equal and not some god you've made yourself out to be? Not fear you? Not take your shit?"

Randy's face broke out into a grin.

"Not take my shit, huh?"

The meaning was not lost on either of them.

"The pranks are getting old and ridiculous. They're not funny, well maybe to you. Only a very sad and very disturbed human being would get off on intentionally trying to humilate another person, on destroying someone else's personal property or espcially putting dog crap in their bag. I'm not stupid. I know you're the one behind everythng. Randy, I knew you were the mastermind all along. So far you have broken into my locker, taken my rental car, ruined my clothes, tried to make me look like an ass on national television by getting your stupid little spineless buddies to switch up the matches. You've done a lot. You have pissed me off and disgusted me and annoyed me, which I am sure is your intention. I guess congratulations are in order because you've got your wish but let me tell you something, you went too far with that last so called rib."

"You mean that unfortunate little incident involving you and airport security? Geez, Memphis carrying around dog shit in your purse then trying to sneak it on a plane? Getting busted and being late for a show? Landing all over the Internet dirt sheets? Not a good way to start off a career. Doesn't do much for the longevity notion."

"All thanks to you," she muttered.

"I know you like to march around like you're big and bad but an important piece of advice…not too smart to fuck with the TSA. Looks like they were a little bigger and badder."

"You keep harassing me and trying to get to me. I guess that's just your deal. My question is, when is it going to stop?"

"What did I do?" he feigned innocence.

Memphis laughed in spite of the situation.

"You know damned well what you did. You know, Randy, you're great at orchestrating these little devious plots and plans behind my back but now let's see what you've got when we're standing face to face. Don't deny it. You did it so you should own up to it because I'm sure you're quite proud of yourself. Let's just call a spade a spade."

Randy felt his blood starting to boil. This woman did seem to have that kind of affect on him.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Where do you get off talking to me like that? You think you're a hot shot because you're the first female referee? You think you're all that because the fans are popping for you now. Get out of here. You just don't get it, do you? And your stupid ass probably never will. You're nothing. You're just another pair of no talent, mediocre tits and ass. When Vince runs out of gimmicks for you, you'll be gone. You're just another dumb broad, one of many in this company, nothing more. So next time you want to get in my face and be all uppity, you just remember that."

"You have to be the most insecure person I have ever met in my life, you know that?"

Randy was taken aback.

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me. For whatever reason, I threaten you and you and your over inflated ego just can't handle that. So you do what you always do to cope. You act like an ass, get your stooges to do your dirty work and you bully people. Well, I have news for you. No one likes a bully, Orton and no one likes you. Join the club because they don't like me either but that is only because they don't know me. They know you. And to know you is to know that you're sick and classless and mean and demented. What you think is respect in that locker room is actually fear which is stupid. Look at you, you're nothing to fear. You're just another dumb, uneducated jock with nothing to fall back on except looks and a good family name. You better pray you never get seriously injured here because where else are you gonna go? You couldn't hack it in the Marine Corp and your craziness definietly couldn't hack it in the real world. You think you're a big man? You're the loser. You're pathetic. You should go back home to Daddy and cry and beg him to teach you how to be a real champion, a real man."

There was an audible and collective gasp throughout the arena. No one talked to Randy Orton like that. No one had ever stood up to him like that and it showed. He was incensed, ready to blow a gasket.

"Calm down, man," John quickly intervened, physically inserting his massive frame between the two of them. "Memphis, I know you're upset and you've said your piece. Both of you are a little wound up so it's probably best that everybody just cool off before this gets out of control."

"Get this stupid, fucking cunt bitch away from me," Randy, red faced, demanded through gritted teeth.

Memphis smiled. She had a small measure of retribution. For weeks he had been getting the best of her and now she had finally gotten the best of him. She had touched a nerve, gotten under his skin, embarrassed him for a change.

"Fine. I'll leave but just know this. I know why you're behind this. I know you're doing it all to get me out of here. I know you want me to quit or get fired. It's not going to happen. You know why? Because I am secure in myself and what I came here to do. You won't dictate my life or make me live in fear and I'm sure you have even more treacherous pranks up your sleeve but it doesn't matter. I am not going to cry or quit or give up or give in. I refuse to give you that satisfaction. I am a fighter and a survivor and I have been through too much and worked too damned hard to let some idiot like you ruin this for me. So keep it coming because in the end, I'll still be standing."

With that she looked him in the eye one more time before walking away. A stunned silence lingered behind. Everyone had heard her and those who hadn't would soon hear as the frazzled gossip would for sure make its way around the locker room like wild fire within moments. She was proud of herself. She had wanted nothing more than to yell, curse, and tear Randy Orton limb from limb but that would have made her worse than him. And she refused to sink to his low level. She had hit him where it hurt, got him where it counted. Everybody had heard her and more importantly, so had Randy Orton.


	14. Punk To The Rescue

Pay per view Sundays were always a big deal in the WWE. It was a night when the RAW and Smackdown brands merged and the two sets of Superstars gave their all in the matches that had been promoted all month long. It was a night where feuds were started and settled. A lot went into those shows, especially when they were held at big arenas like the Staples Center in Los Angeles, the site of that Sunday's three hour extravaganza as well as home to both RAW and Smackdown for the next two nights after that. Memphis had been given the task of officiating the big match between John Cena and Nexus member Wade Barrett. It was her only match of the evening but it was a headliner and she had been super excited. Plus it seemed that this match might actually go as planned. One of Randy Orton's favorite schemes was to get his buddies to switch up spots mid match in order to throw Memphis off and confuse her. But John Cena was no stooge. He took his in ring work very seriously and had no plans of making any last minute changes. Stu Bennett, the man behind the Nexus leader seemed to be on the same page.

A few of the Superstars had driven down to L.A. right after the Saturday night house show in San Diego. Memphis had been one of them, traveling with her road dog, Phil Brooks. They had arrived at their hotel a little after ten and after putting her belongings away, Memphis had gone down to the arena. It was late and the crew had long gone. The building was empty but she knew in less than 24 hours it would be filled with screaming and excited fans. There was just something about being inisde an empty venue. Wearing workout clothes, she made her way down to the ramp and climbed up on the apron between the ropes. She took a seat in the middle of the ring and rested her weary head on top of her knees, deep in thought. She sat that way for a long time until footsteps walking towards her garnered her attention.

It was Phil. He had been worried about her. She had been different for the last week or so, ever since her very angry and very public confrontation in the ring with Randy Orton. Memphis had become distant and aloof. As close as she and Phil were, it now seemed like she was trying to avoid him. It was like their close friendship no long mattered anymore to her. It bothered him. It actually bothered him more than he wanted to admit. In fact, her recent behavior had troubled him so that it had left him to wrestle with the very nature of his true feelings for her.

"How'd you find me here?" she asked.

Phil shrugged.

"I texted you a couple of times to see if you wanted to get something to eat."

"Sorry. I left my phone back in the room. I just came down here to check things out. I honestly didn't think I'd be down here this long. I guess I kind of spaced out."

"You okay?" Phil asked as he climbed inside the ring and took a seat beside her.

"Yeah."

"You told me once that you liked to come down to the ring sometimes when it was empty, when the fans and the crew weren't around. I remembered that so I thought I might find you here."

"You know me too well, Punk," she sighed.

"You excited about tomorrow night?"

"I can't wait. I'm pretty pumped. The Main Event at a pay per view…doesn't really get any better than that. This is what I've always wanted."

"How's it going backstage? The other refs still being douche bags?"

Memphis rolled her eyes.

"Of course. And I'm sure me getting this match won't help things."

"They're just jealous."

"I know."

"You think it'll ever get better?" he kicked at the canvas.

"I don't know. I used to think so, hope so now I don't know. And I'm tired of thinking about it quite honestly."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm over it…all of it."

"Memphis…"

"I come to work every day on time and do my job to the best of my ability. I'm cordial to everybody which is really kind of pointless because no one is ever really polite back. I mind my own business and don't bother anybody and what does it get me? Everyone continues to treat me like garbage for no reason and when they're not being mean, I'm basically getting the cold shoulder. I have done nothing to deserve it and it is very unfair and I am tired of it. So I told myself that I'm gonna stop caring. Stop caring about everything…what people think about me, what people say about me…all of it."

"If that's how you feel, who could blame you?"

"I don't need anyone. I worked damned hard to get here and I did it on my own. I was alone then so what's the big deal if I'm alone now."

Phil smirked at her.

"Tell me how you really feel."

"I'm glad you think this is funny."

"Memphis, relax. I didn't say it was funny. In fact, I get how you feel. It's just that…"

"That what?"

"I don't know," he looked right at her. "The last couple of months, would it be presumptious to say that you and I have gotten close? I mean, sure it's graded on a curve considering I am the only person on the roster that doesn't ignore you or terrorize you but I'd still say we're friends just the same."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, you can be honest with me."

"I know that."

"Do you really?"

"Punk, come on. When have I not been honest with you?"

"Memphis, sometimes I don't think you're honest with yourself."

"Where in the world is this coming from?" she turned to him.

"Look, I know I give you a hard time and I joke around a lot but when it comes down to it, I really care about you. You have to know that. You're a tough chick…I get that. Hell, you've had to be to make it this far. You went to law school and made something out of yourself and when you realized that didn't make you happy, you went after your real dream. It wasn't an easy road but you stuck with it. Now that you've made it, you've got a lot of haters trying to ruin it for you but you keep your head up. You pretend like it doesn't bother you. I know you can't let them see you sweat but with me…I'm just saying it's okay."

"Punk…"

"Orton and the others guys are jerks. No one in this company has given you the respect you have earned and that sucks. But some of the stunts they have pulled and the things they have said…they have been downright cruel. I know it hurts you."

"No, it doesn't."

"Memphis…"

"Why does this bother you so much? And it isn't the first time you've brought it up. I don't get it. You're supposed to be my friend. You should be proud of me for staying strong yet sometimes it's like you're the main one waiting for me to break down and roll around moaning and crying on the floor hysterically or something. What gives, dude?"

"It's not that. It's just that I want you to know you can let your guard down with me."

"That's not gonna happen," she rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath.

"There you go again. You know, Memphis, if you keep pretending that you don't care about other people and if you keep pretending like you don't need anybody, one day you really won't."

"I don't."

"Yes, you do. I thought you and I were cool but now it seems like I am just another person on that long list of those you don't need or give a shit about."

"You're taking this way too far and way too personal. I mean, why does it matter? God, you're acting like you're my boyfriend or something."

"If I were your boyfriend, you wouldn't be sitting here alone in this ring right now pouting. And I'd do my best to treat you the right way and not hurt you like a lot of other people obviously have before in your life."

His last comment struck a nerve. Memphis frowned before looking up.

"Punk, what are you saying?"

"I know I'm not the mushy hearts and flowers type of guy that likes to hold hands and bake cookies and all that crap but I do wear my heart on my sleeve. It takes a special woman and when I fall, I do fall hard."

"Punk…"

"I don't like to beat around the bush. It's stupid. I say what I feel."

She swallowed hard.

"And what…what are you feeling?"

"The past few weeks you've grown on me and I guess what I'm trying to say is that I like you…a lot. I was hoping the feeling is mutual. I've been thinking about it a lot lately but I didn't know how to tell you and I didn't want to make stuff all weird. I also didn't want to be that guy that you lean on just because he's there and because no one else is. I don't know, Memphis. You've got a lot on your mind and I don't want to make it worse. I care and I'll always be here for you. You've got your reasons for feeling the way you do and even if I don't agree with it or understand it, I'll respect it. So I'll leave you alone and when you're ready to talk, just let me know."

He stood and went to exit the ring. Memphis felt her heart pound. Something inside of her just didn't want him to leave.

"I don't cry," she said in a voice that was barely audible.

"What?" he stopped.

"I said, I don't cry. I want to…sometimes," she looked down. "Sometimes it really hurts, you know? You work hard to get somewhere and you're finally in the midst of living your dream and it's so wonderful but at the same time, it sucks. I don't know. I guess I want the best of both worlds. I guess I want to have my cake and eat it too. I, I feel like everybody is out to get me. I feel like I was supposed to be welcomed into the loving arms of this big happy family but instead it's the total opposite and it sucks because I don't have a safe place to go and it's like I didn't have anybody to trust…until now."

"Memphis…"

"It's hard for me to let down my defenses. I never thought about you in that way. You've always been just a friend…an amazing friend. But it has been tough and yeah, as close as I feel to you, it's hard for me to be vulnerable in front of you. I don't mean to but I feel like I intimidate a lot of the guys."

"You don't intimidate me," he walked back over and sat beside her. "And I'm not like a lot of other guys."

"I know," she said softly. "Gosh, why does it have to be so hard? So crazy?"

"That's just life, Dollface."

He put an arm around her.

"Did you mean what you said?"

"Which part?"

Memphis looked him in the eye.

"The part about liking me?"

He shrugged.

"You're a cool chick. You're hot. You're sweet. You're smart. You're funny. You look great in stripes and now I know who to call if I ever get another speeding ticket."

She giggled as she playfully punched him in the ribs.

"Are you ever serious a day in your life?"

He answered her question by leaning over and placing a kiss across her lips. It stunned her at first but once the few seconds of awkward tension passed, she relaxed. His lips felt nice. He was a good kisser. And he was genuine. It felt comforting to be wanted for a change.

"Did you get the answer you were looking for?" he asked when he finally pulled away, leaving them both breathless.

"Wow," she managed to mouth.

He grinned and straightened his collar.

"Typical reaction. I get that a lot, you know."

"I imagine," she smiled. "Look, I told you how hard it is for me to let my guard down. I'm working on it and I'll try to work a little harder on it. Before I guess no one was worth me letting them in."

"And now?"

"Now maybe that's starting to change," she admitted.

Memphis closed her eyes and leaned in, letting her head rest against the security of his shoulder. All her life, she'd had to be the tough chick, the no nonsense girl always in control, always in charge. She had forgotten what it was like to be taken care of, to be rescued. And as he placed a gentle kiss on top of her head, the sweet and reassuring feeling of that memory came flooding back. It was nice to be protected, to feel wanted. It was nice to not have to be that girl with the wall up. It was nice to finally let someone else in.


	15. Obsession

Memphis had searched every nook and cranny of the hotel and Phil was nowhere to be found. She had tried his cell phone but it had gone straight to voicemail. She needed to talk to him. It had been three weeks since they had sat in the middle of the ring in an empty arena and shared a kiss after he had professed romantic feelings for her. After that night, the implication had been that the two were going to be a couple but such inferences had left Memphis feeling uncertain about the situation. She liked Phil a lot. He was a nice guy, really funny and sweet. And he obviously really cared about her. She cared about him too but her heart was conflicted. The last thing she had ever wanted or expected was a workplace romance. That just seemed to complicate things. It made her feel weird inside. Phil was attractive and the two shared a connection but a part of Memphis liked them better off as friends. On the other hand, she missed having a man's attention in her life. She had been so focused on her career that everything else had fallen by the wayside. Her heart had been closed off and she had started to accept that. Maybe that was a bad sign. Maybe it was time to give companionship and possibly a little more, a chance.

Confused by her own feelings had only translated into her being hot and cold. She knew Phil was feeling the temperature variations. Sometimes it was hard to act normal around him. He wasn't one for huge productions of PDA but even the subtle and private touches and kisses made her uncomfortable. It had resulted in a strain between the two, which was the last thing Memphis had wanted. She wasn't sure what she wanted from Phil but she was sure that she didn't want things to be awkward. She missed his company and as she rounded the entrance to the lavish hotel gym, she saw him sitting at the bicep trainer machine doing arm curls. Even with earphones on, she could hear hard rock music blasting.

"I have been looking all over for you," she gently shook his arm.

Phil looked up and nodded an acknowledgmet, removing the earphones and using a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"And here I am," he said rather nonchalantly.

"It's late," Memphis observed, nervously shifting her weight from side to side. "It's almost three in the morning. I thought you would be asleep by now. I, um, I tried to go to your room but nobody answered…"

"I couldn't sleep," he shrugged. "Not tired. I realized being on the inactive roster is no excuse to be lazy in the gym. After all, if I don't watch my figure, neither will the ladies."

She smiled at his lame attempt at a joke.

"I missed you after the show."

"Yeah, I, um had production stuff to take care of with Jerry and Cole."

"Oh. It's just that you usually shoot me a text or drop by my room afterwards."

"It's no big deal."

"Well, I missed having you around," she tried to smile.

"Tonight?"

Memphis frowned.

"What?"

"You said you missed me. That's tonight. What about tomorrow when you change your mind and don't want to be bothered?"

"Punk," she said, surprised.

He finished his exercising.

"Things have been kind of hot and cold lately."

"Is that why you're avoiding me?" she asked carefully.

Phil took a sip of his water.

"I'm not avoiding you, it's called giving you your space. Look, Memphis, I'm not stupid. I can take a hint. I know things have been different between us ever since L.A. I get that. What I told you is true. I do like you as more than a friend but if you don't feel the same way, that's cool."

"Punk…"

"You just seem really uncomfortable and that 's the last thing I wanted to happen."

She closed her eyes.

"Me too. Listen, I'm sorry…"

"You don't have to be. You win some, you lose some, right?"

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" he asked.

Memphis opened her mouth to speak but the words wouldn't come out, not at first. She took a seat beside him and blew out a breath, resting her weary head on top of his sweaty, bare shoulder.

"I don't know," she sighed. "Would you believe me if I told you I can be a total flake sometimes?"

The corner of his lips turned into a smirk.

"I'm listening…"

"I like you. You're a nice guy."

"Nice guy? Yikes, that's sounds like the kiss of death."

She playfully swatted at him.

"That's not what I mean. This is just different for me, you know?" she said quietly. "It was kind of unexpected between you and me. I guess I'm still trying to process it all."

"Is there even a you and me?" he asked point blank.

For all the charm, sarcasm, and quick wit that was CM Punk, there was something vulnerable and oddly sweet about Phil Brooks. She still didn't know if she was ready for a relationship but she knew that he was into her. She liked having him be a part of her life. She liked the fact that he wanted her. Staring into his eyes, Memphis leaned in and kissed him.

A few feet away, a lone figure bounded down the hall. He threw a towel over his shoulder and headed to the gym. It was another one of those restless nights for Randy Orton, and that had become more and more frequent. His attention span was non existent and the clubs, the parties, the women and even the men who looked up to him in the locker room couldn't change that. Randy felt filled with pent up aggression. Unable to sleep at three in the morning, he decided to go work out in the hotel gym.

Rounding the corner, he put his hand on the knob to turn it but stopped when he heard commotion coming from inside. He peered in. The gym was well lit and he had a near perfect view inside. Already there was Phil Brooks. Randy rolled his eyes. The two men had never been friends. In fact, Randy found Phil, his straight edge lifestyle and loser rock music sort of weird. And if weirdos attracted weirdos, he had met his match in Memphis Kramer. Randy shuddered as he saw her sitting next to him. They were speaking in hushed voices, tones too low for him to hear so he studied their body language.

Memphis was kissing him and it made Randy throw up in his mouth a little. He had heard rumors that the two were together and that only made sense. They were each other's only source of company on the road so it was only natural that they gravitated towards each other. Phil may have loved to flaunt his staright edge ways that included no drinking, drug use or promiscuous sex but it was common knowledge in the locker room that he wasn't one to turn down pussy. Granted he didn't go looking for it like some of the other guys did but CM Punk was no virgin.

Randy sat his gym bag on the floor as he stood quiet as a mouse. Memphis was so damned transparent that it was pathetic. The kisses she planted on his lips lacked passion and were filled with pity. The affection seemed awakward and forced. He could even tell by the way she nervously stroked the back of his neck. It had probably been a long time since she had been laid and she was torn between that feeling of wanting to get some but not make a huge mistake. The Viper chuckled to himself. So typical.

They continued to talk and she seemed to be laying it on thick, reassuring him somehow. Phil was a weirdo but he was no dummy. He sensed her trepidation, her insincerity even. He wasn't convinced even as she stood to walk away. Randy watched as Phil's eyes followed her. Then he reached out his hand to stop her. Memphis halted dead in her tracks, closing her eyes. Now it was her time to convince herself that whatever happened next was the right thing. Phil stood and dropped his towel. He led her by the hand to a more private corner of the gym but Randy still had his voyeur's delight of a view. He kissed her lips and she kissed him back as his hands trailed down the sides of her tee shirt and skinny jeans. His tongue trailed down her neck and back up to her pressed his body closer into hers as her fingernails grazed the exposed flesh of his back.

Biting her lip with uncertainty, Randy watched her will herself to grab the hem of his workout tank and pull it over his head. The cotton garment was discarded at their feet as her lips softly nibbled at his shoulder blade. Phil let out a low moan, his desire growing as he pushed Memphs back against the wall. Randy's icy blue eyes widened as Phil removed her shirt and then her jeans. He didn't know if the douche bag had it in him but he kept watching as Phil kissed her neck, then her chest and finally her stomach. She wore a lacy white bra and panty set that matched, a sharp contrast to the granny panties Randy had always envisioned underneath the black slacks and stripes.

Her breasts were nice, full and round but not too big. Her stomach was taunt and flat, slightly rippled with abdominal muscles that shivered involuntarily as a tongue made its way down the smooth skin. He lifted her bent right leg and began smothering the inner thigh with kisses. Memphis moaned and just by her reaction, Randy could tell it had been a long time for her. She trembled with anticipation of what was to come and he was surprised when her right hand placed itself comfortably on the silky material that covered her mound. Phil's mouth made its way closer and closer, teasing her with each delayed second. Finally he pushed the material to the side and Randy's jaw tightened. A single "landing strip" of perfect cropped and trimmed hair led to her treasure box. Touching the two lips, Phil pulled them apart before stroking down her center. Her moans had turned to whimpers by now as she practically begged him to pleasure her.

He obliged by running his tongue all over the sweet womanly pearl between her legs. He kissed and licked it as she tossed her head back and writhed underneath the warmth and wetness of his mouth. Her hips bucked and he licked her harder and faster, gently pulling at the tender flesh with his teeth. The sound of Memphis' cries rang in Randy's ears. It intrigued him, she intrigued him and he couldn't turn away if he wanted to…not that he did. And as she pushed Phil back a little and sank to her knees, Randy soon found out that she wasn't the uptight, frigid princess he had mistaken her for. She pulled down Phil's workout pants without prodding, his cock stiff and erect, dripping with precum. She licked all around, the shaft and the head before lowering her entire mouth onto him. She sucked with gusto, a sight that caused Randy's own pants to tighten. Phil, the poor bastard, looked like he was ready to blow right there. Fucking amateur, Randy thought. Phil looked around and mistakenly thinking no one was watching, he sat his bare ass onto one of the workout benches. Randy frowned. That was why he was always so sure to wipe off the gym equipment before he used it…you never knew when two bored, lonely, pathetic, weirdo freaks were gonna decide to make their own porno in a hotel gym.

He sat down, unsnapping her bra and pulling her underwear completely off. She stepped out of them and he turned her around. Randy now had the perfect view of her face and best of all, she had no idea that he was watching her. Phil pulled her towards him and lowered her onto him. He wasn't that big so it didn't surprise Randy that she could take him with relative ease. She slid up and down the length of his cock, her wetness leaving a trail of slick sheen against his member as she glided and moaned her way to an orgasm that Randy described weak at best. After all it was Phil Brooks, CM Punk. When you looked at that guy, making a woman come wasn't exactly the first thought that came to mind.

Randy's eyes never left the two. Spying on his co-workers sexcapades wasn't his usual MO but there was something different about Memphis Kramer. As much as he hated her, he was equally intrigued by her. She consumed much of his daily thought process even if it was just thinking up more dastardly pranks and humilating schemes to pull on her. But there was something about this woman that he just couldn't get out of his head. Now he had seen her in the most intimate and private of moments. And it only further fueled his infatuation. She was his obsession.


	16. Gone Too Far

Memphis took a look in the mirror one last time, straightening out her black and white striped referee's shirt. It was another live television event for Monday Night RAW in Houston, Texas. The main event would see fan favorite John Cena versus the British heel Wade Barrett. Vince McMahon himself had personally requested that his sole female referee officiate the match. As she got ready in the back, she could hear the fans in their seats. Their passion and energy was unreal only matched by the passion and energy of the Superstars who loved to perform in front of them. Memphis Kramer was in the midst of living a dream. In just a few short months she had quickly become one of the federation's most popular characters. It was fun signing autographs and having the adoration of fans around the world. More than the notoriety, she had gained the respect, which was all she had really wanted anyway. The fans loved and respected her but respect still not had come from the one place that mattered most…the WWE locker room.

The male referees continued to ignore her, looking on with disdain, resenting her growing popularity and the fact that she was being offered the best matches. Most of the crew and on air talent ignored her as well. She still found herself the victim of nightly pranks, some petty and harmlessly annyoying while others were more dastardly and humiliating. The abuse was never ending and Memphis had quietly resigned herself to the fact that Randy Orton and Teddy DiBiase's mission in life was to make hers miserable. It made work an uncomfortable setting having to deal with the ribs or sit around waiting and wondering what they were going to come up with. It was a form of torment that only added to an already conflicted soul.

_Want to just drive to San Antonio after the show?_

She looked down at her phone, reading the incoming text message. She smiled faintly. It was from Phil Brooks, her only WWE friend and ally who had recently graduated to the role of lover and boyfriend…kind of. He was a great guy and they had fun together. He was sweet and protective and his off the wall sarcasm dripped sense of humor kept her in stitches. He was a great person but she was still coming to terms, getting used to the new dynamics of their relationship. Regardless, he was really into her and she had to admit that having sex again after so many months of being celibate was a welcomed new development. Memphis had decided to give him and whatever was going on between them a chance. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to lose the one person in the WWE that truly cared about her.

_Sure thing. Getting ready for my match. Will see you after the show._

Putting her bag securely in a locker, she pulled her brown hair back into a tight ponytail. She wore mascara and lined the top and bottom of her eyes with a light coat of black liquid liner. A dark finish of matte gloss covered her lips. Checking her apperance for the final time, she blew out a breath before heading to the Gorilla. Everything had been set up already for the Barrett/Cena fight and it was highly unlikely that any last minute changes would be made. On her way to the front, she passed by a large group of Superstars and Divas who had congregated near a huge monitor in order to watch the main event. When she walked by, everyone stopped what they were doing. It got eerily quiet as all eyes fell upon her. Keeping her head up, she tried to pay no attention to the smirk that crossed Randy Orton's face.

"Bitch," Teddy muttered loudly as he pretended to sneeze.

A few snickers and chuckles came from the other wrestlers. Memphis just shook her head.

"You guys are so juvenile," she mumbled under her breath.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Randy sneered.

Memphis stopped dead in her tracks. The last thing she wanted or intended to do was antagonize the situation but she was tired of Orton's bullying. Somebody had to stand up to him.

"I said you guys are so juvenile," she repeated slowly and loudly turning to face him.

Randy's jaw visibly tightened. She was different than anyone else in that locker room and that was a big part of what got to him. Everyone else respected him, feared him, basically bowed down to his very presence but not Memphis Kramer. She did what grown men twice her size didn't dare to do. She didn't take Randy Orton's bullshit. She talked back to him and looked him in the eye when she did so. She was unafraid and not intimidated. She was always prepared to call him out at any time and any place.

"You guys, huh?" Randy folded his arms. "That's a pretty biased and unfair generalization, I'd say."

"Whatever. I don't have time for this."

She turned to walk away but he took one step and blocked her path.

"Leaving so soon?"

Memphis rolled her eyes.

"I have a match to get ready for. Can you move out of my way?"

He looked her up and down like a piece of meat.

"What's the magic word?"

She matched his steely glare with her own.

"Now," she stated emphatically.

Gasps, mumurs, and muffled laughter came from the crowd of their peers. Randy narrowed his gaze.

"That wasn't very nice," he said in a low voice.

"I already asked you nicely to get out of my way. I'm done being nice, Orton."

"Fine," he put his hands up defensively. "You have to referee the main event and the dark match, right?"

"You know I do," she sighed.

"I see. So after the show is over, you'll probably call it a night and head back to the hotel, get a good night's rest before driving to San Antonio tomorrow."

Though treading carefully, Memphis ended up walking right into his trap.

"Actually, I am headed to San Antonio tonight but I don't really see where that is any of your business."

"It's not, you're right. Absolutely none of my business what you do after a show…what you do before a show. In fact, you're a very private, shall we say, person, isn't that right?"

"Orton…"

He picked up a soda bottle that he had been using to house the used tobacco juice that he had been chewing on ever since his own match. Spitting a wad of nasty brown liquid into it, his blue eyes never left hers.

"Private…yeah, that's you. Private or maybe it's anti social. It's just you and Phil against the world, huh?"

"I don't have time for this."

"You're in a rush," he set down the bottle. "Well, don't let me keep you. Wouldn't want to keep you from your matches, from your drive to San Antonio and uh…especially what happens once you get to San Antonio tonight."

"What's that?" Teddy, laughing, asked.

"Nothing too exciting," Randy shrugged. "It's just that our pal Memphis and her little weirdo boyfriend have a thing for late night workouts."

Memphis felt her blood run cold. Something about the sinister look in his eyes and the menancing tone in his voice told her that it was just more than him routinely trying to embarrass her. Late night workouts? He had to know but how?

"What are you talking about, man?" Teddy went on.

Randy smirked at him.

"Are you slow? Wait, don't answer that. Anyway, numb nuts, Phil and Memphis like to…"

"Stop it,"she stared at him. "Enough is enough."

Randy grabbed her by the shoulder and leaned in, whispering in her ear.

"I saw you that night. You dirty, fucking slut. I watched you fuck him right there in the hotel gym. I watched you suck his dick, I watched you letting him fuck you in plain sight in every position. I even watched you play with your pussy while he did it."

"Oh my God," she began to tremble all over. "You are sick."

Randy laughed out loud and began to speak in a voice where everyone could hear him again.

"You're just another pathetic whore working your way around the locker room. Visit enough gyms at three a.m. and eventually we'll all have a chance, guys."

Memphis stared at him in disbelief. She didn't know what to say…what to do, what to think, how to react. Randy Orton had done some pretty horrible things to her but this one took the cake. He had spied on her in the most intimate of had watched her have sex with another man. His admission and shit eating grin that accompanied made her sick to her stomach. He had violated her. Memphis had never felt so vulnerable and humilated in all her life.

"How could you?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Is that all you've got? Where's that big and bad mouth at now?"

Memphis was stunned. She was hurt. He had definetly struck a nerve. Is this what it had come to? They had never gotten along. They had been like oil and water from their very first meeting. It had all started with an innocent bump. She had simply walked into him and it had been an accident. Is that what had started this war, poured gasoline over a match that was already burning so brightly? It had escalated out of control, the entire situation. For months she had been a soldier. She had kept her head high and remained the bigger person. She had ignored it and when the time came, she had fought back when it was called for. She had done everything in her power hoping it would all just go away. But it hadn't. It had only gotten worse. From her clothing being stolen and destroyed, to lotion in the crotch of her underwear to dog crap in her purse. It hadn't stopped and it wasn't going to. Randy Orton was ruthless. He was demented and evil and for some reason fixated on her. It was too much. She had told everyone around her, told herself that she wouldn't let it, them, him get to her but in the end, she wasn't a super hero. She was a human being, a woman, a real person with real flaws and real feelings. And they had been hurt. Like it or not, Randy Orton had gotten the best of her.

"Leave her alone, Ran, I think she's gonna cry," DiBiase teased with a hearty laugh.

She stood there, feet planted firmly on the ground unable to move. Raw emotion consumed her. As she stood there shaking, she flinched when she saw the quick movement of Teddy coming towards her. Before she knew it, before any of them knew it, thanks to the junior DiBiase, the contents of Randy Orton's spit bottle were now splattered all over her shirt. She heard laughter and was sure it was Teddy, proud of his work and desperate for the approval of his hero and mentor, Randy Orton. Even Cody "Rhodes" Runnels may have chuckled but other than that, everyone else just looked horrified. Memphis stared down at her shirt. When she looked back up, she found herself doing the one thing she swore she would never do. She was crying. Crying in front of Randy Orton and Ted DiBiase, crying in front of all of them. Silent tears slid down her cheeks as she walked past the group. It was time for the match to start. The PA was saying she was needed at the ring at that very moment. There was nothing else she could do but walk past the Gorilla, past all the crew and a shocked Stu "Wade Barrett" Bennett and John Cena. With used tobacco all over her neatly pressed shirt, she walked almost trance like with dried tears on her face down the ramp. She climbed in the ring and waited for the bell, oblivious to all the whispers, gawking and stares, not even paying attention as a shocked and appalled Phil stared wordlessly at her from the broadcasting table.

The match began. It went off without a hitch, each wrestler expertly performing entertaining and spectacular spot after spot. Memphis did her job, keeping the kayfabe going and making sure that the match was good on time and that she communicated all the commands from the production office to the two opponents. She did it on instinct alone as her heart and mind were clearly elsewhere. She was in another world, her own world and moved about robotically through the two matches. Meanewhile backstage, the small crowd of onlookers had disbanded. The only two left were Orton and DiBiase. Still flying high from humilating Memphis just minutes earlier, Teddy moved about in a great mood, huge grin plastered across his handsome face. But his partner in crime, the reprehensible ring leader stood quiet, seemingly lost in thought. Normally it made him feel good when they did something bad to her but not this time. Something was different about this time and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was the look on her face, the look in her eyes, the one of deep and profound hurt. In that moment and every second thereafter he didn't just see her as his nemesis and adversary, he saw her as a real person. He saw her pain, pain that he was responsible for. As much as he fought it, as much as he hated to admit it, it bothered him, it touched him deeply. The last thing he felt was good about what they, he, had done.

The whole thing had been stupid. He had been mad at her and he had done terrible things to her out of his uncontrollable anger. He was used to getting what he wanted and treating people anyway he saw fit. Now he was getting a wake up call. The way she looked at him, the look on her face in that ring, the way she'd had to walk out looking like that in front of everybody. It was the product of Randy Orton's work but for the first time he didn't feel proud. He only felt shame. He was forced to look inside himself and ask a few important questions. Exactly what kind of sick fuck was he? What had made him tick? What had turned him to a monster? When had he succumbbed to such darkness? And why, just why had he gone too far?


	17. Little Girl Lost

Phil Brooks shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way to the hotel room. To say it had been a long night would have been a massive understatement. So much had happened and the drama behind the scenes had far surpassed the drama on the live RAW broadcast. For Phil it had started out like any other night on the job. He was enjoying his new role as commentator and the fans were seemingly falling in love with his sarcastic and off the wall humor as well. It was a win win situation, keeping him traveling and being involved in the business he loved while his injured hip healed. More importantly it kept him close to the beautiful young lady who had recently stolen his heart.

Her name was Memphis Kramer and she was unlike any other woman Phil had ever met. She was intelligent, determined, strong willed and funny all at the same time. Initially he had felt sorry for her and all the crap she'd had to endure at the hands of a bunch of immature, jealous, sexist, egotists. That was why he had reached out to her but the more time they spent together, the more he got to know her and the more he started to like her. A real friendship had blossomed and with Memphis, he hadn't felt that kind of connection in a long time. It was nice and when the feelings had unexpectedly developed into something more, he hadn't even tried to fight them.

People couldn't tell by looking at him but he was the relationship kind of guy. He liked being attached. He liked taking care of someone, cuddling, talking and doing all the things that couples did. It was an unspoken arrangement but it was pretty safe to say that Memphis was his girlfriend. That night she had been scheduled to officiate the main event and afterwards they were going to drive to the next city which happened to be San Antonio. It was supposed to be fun and simple but the minute he saw her walk down that ramp, he knew it would be anything but. The mood had definetly changed. Memphis had come to the ring in a trance like state, dried tears staining on her face and an obnoxious brown stain covering her shirt.

It was live television and things like that just weren't supposed to happen. No one knew what to make of it all. There had been no time for a change of clothes and she had slipped right past Production before they had the chance to see her desecrated attire. Nobody knew how to explain it and Phil immediately had been taken out of character and out of his zone. Instantly he knew that whatever happened, had occurred at the cruel hand and direction of one Randy Orton. It killed him to see the woman he cared about so upset. The minute the show had ended, he had ripped off his headset and rushed to the back. Memphis had been standing in a daze and repeated what had happened to him. It had taken everything he had not to kill Orton and DiBiase right then and there. Instead he had ushered Memphis into the rental car and had taken her as far away from the scene of the crime as possible.

Memphis had remained eerily quiet throughout the drive and had finally found a few stolen moments of sleep. Updates poured in via their cell phones. Vince McMahon had not been pleased. The Internet dirt sheets were already running rampant with what had happened and the entire scene was out of control. It hadn't taken long for the brasses to figure out what had happened that night and the extent of what poor Memphis had been going through for months. Vince had pulled Randy Orton behind closed doors immediately and read him the riot act. One more infraction, just one more instance of inappropriate contact with Memphis Kramer would result in his termination, no questions asked. And for his hard work and effort with the latest prank, he had been fined a whopping fifty thousand dollars. The punishment had been swift and severe but that had not been what had bothered Randy the most. He was still reeling with emotion. Guilt continued to consume him.

As soon as they had arrived at the hotel, Phil had ushered Memphis up to their room. She was still quiet and sad and he understood. He had gotten them some late night food but dinner was the last thing on her mind and she had only picked at it. Realizing one of her bags had been left behind in the trunk, he had gone out to the parking lot to retrieve it. On the way back, he had found himself in the hallway face to face with Randy Orton. The two men had never been fans of each other but there had never been established beef either. The Champion's harsh and unneccesary treatment of Memphis had changed all that. Phil had been angry for a long time but the latest events had damned near pushed him over the edge.

"You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" Phil sneered when the two man were just a few feet a part.

Normally Randy would have been quite satisfied with himself, full of pride and ready to retort with a smart comment or if provoked, a fist. But something was different about him. He was quiet and unsure of himself, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I won't argue with you on that one tonight," he mumbled.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

Randy had no answer.

"I…I don't know. Look, man, things got out of hand. I don't know what happened."

"What do you mean, you don't know what happened. This is all your fault. You did this. Yeah, DiBiase may have been the dirtbag who threw that shit all over her but it has been your mastermind from the beginning that has kept all this going. Messing with her clothes, putting dog shit in her bag, taunting her, humilating her? You just didn't know when to stop, did you? You just couldn't leave well enough alone. You kept pushing and pushing and pushing…and watching us have sex? Seriously, man. What the fuck is wrong with you? You are one sick fuck and I ought to kick your teeth in right now."

Phil was incensed, his eyes darkened with rage, his voice low and angry, his fists balled up and ready for combat. And Randy, big, bad RKO, the evil puppeteer behind the madness, now was a quiet, broken shell of a man.

"Like I said," he looked Phil in the eye. "You won't get an argument out of me, not tonight. I screwed up."

"Yeah, you did and just because Vince got in your ass and you're gonna have to come up off the cash, don't act like that makes everything okay."

Randy knew it didn't. Phil was pissed and he got that, in fact he expected it. But where was Memphis? And was she okay?

"Is Memphis…"

"Don't. I mean it. Don't you dare say her name. You've done enough, Orton. Just leave her alone. She thought she could handle it on her own and I thought you would grow up but this is crazy. You've gone too far and I'm here to tell you, if you ever bother her again, Vince and his threats will be the last thing you have to worry about."

With that, he stormed off, leaving a stunned and oddly quiet Randy alone in the hallway. Phil slid the key in the door and walked into an empty room. There was light coming from underneath the door in the bathroom. Phil took a few steps and knocked softly on the door.

"Hey," she said, not even bothering to look up.

"Hey. You alright?"

She was sitting in the tub filled with hot water and bubbles, hair up, her back towards him.

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"I brought your other bag in."

"Thanks."

Phil took a seat on the edge of the tub and began softly kneading the tender flesh of her shoulders.

"You want to talk about it?"

"Not really," she murmured. "It has been a crazy night and I just want to forget it. Does that sound crazy?"

He shook his head and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Doesn't sound crazy at all, Dollface. At least it's over now. You don't have to worry about those stupid jerks bothering you ever again."

"I know and I guess that's a relief but…"

"But what?" he asked softly. "Talk to me."

"Maybe it was a mistake, Punk."

"What?"

"All of it. Me being here, the whole WWE thing, giving up everything to make this dream come true. Maybe I should have just stayed in the court room."

"You didn't want to be a lawyer. I'm sure you kicked ass at it but your heart just wasn't in it. You knew what you wanted and you went after it. You had to go through a lot, sacrifice a lot. It wasn't easy but you kept your eye on the prize. You never gave up, never gave in and in the end, you're here. You got your dream, Memphis. You're living the dream and that's more than most people can say. So it wasn't easy and that's okay. If this isn't what you want, then maybe you shouldn't be here and if that is truly how you feel, you know I support you because following your heart is the right thing to do. But if you're second guessing yourself because of some spoiled, immature, demented idiot with too much time on his hands…then running away is not the thing to do. He just gets to keep on winning and he'll know ultimately that he got the best of you."

"He did."

"Maybe so. The guy was relentless and after what you've been through, most people in your position would just say fuck it. But you're not most people. You're strong, you're better than that. The best way to prove yourself in the end is to keep coming back and say, you know what? You bastards gave me your best shot and I took it and guess what? I'm still standing. You hurt me but you didn't break me. I'm still here and I'm not going anywhere unless it's on my terms. Randy Orton made up the rules of the game, now it's your turn to change them."

Memphis closed her eyes and leaned back into Phil's body, softly chuckling.

"When did you become such an advice guru?"

"One of my many hidden talents," he shrugged with a smirk. "Pro wrestler, Straight Edge converter, expert commentator, advice guru and oh yeah, sex machine. Don't forget that one."

"Never."

"You're gonna be okay, kiddo," he playfully ruffled her hair.

"As long as you're here."

"Cause I'm the man."

"I mean it, Punk. I'm serious. I don't have a lot in my life. That's why this dream is so damned important to me because sometimes it seems like it's all I have. And if I lose it, if I let it go, then I have nothing. That's a scary thought. But um…I have you. And you're a great guy. You make everything better. You make me feel safe and I need that. I want that. I love that about you."

She looked up into his eyes and a lump formed in his throat. At that moment the tough girl who could handle anything, who never let anything bother her was coming undone. She looked so fragile, so vulnerable in that moment and it touched him deeply. She seemed to bring out the raw emotion inside of him. More than anything he wanted to protect her but at that second, he just wanted to hold her.

"I'll always be here for you, Memphis," he leaned down and kissed her lips.

"Thank you."

"So what do we do now? Where do we go from here?"

Memphis sighed.

"Tonight I'll probably do a lot of thinking and a lot of crying. And tomorrow…tomorrow is a new day. I'll get up and shake it off and go back."

"Atta girl," he grinned. "You can thank me later."

"For what?"

"The life changing pep talk that kicked your ass in gear and made you realize what you had to do."

Memphis rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. I was just letting you have your Oprah moment. I knew what I was gonna do the whole time. I was just having a self pity party."

"Is that right?" he put her in a modified headlock.

"That's exactly right," she reversed it, giggling, pulling him into the soapy water fully clothed.

Phil landed with a thud, covered in bubbles.

"Real men do not take bubble baths. And if you ever tell anyone about this, I'm gonna have to deny it, then kill you."

"It'll be our little secret then," she gave him another lingering kiss.

Phil closed his eyes as he let his tongue trace the softness of her lips.

"Our secret," he repeated, cradling her body close before giving her another kiss and climbing out of the tub.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"I'm gonna ditch these wet clothes and lay on the bed naked preferably with a cigar in my mouth and a diet soda in my hand as I strike a dashingly sexy pose," he winked. "I'll be waiting for you."

"I am naked, wet, vulnerable and all of a sudden very horny. I can't believe you're just gonna leave me here. Why don't you want to take a romantic bath with me?"

He had already walked over to the sink in the room and began brushing his teeth after peeling off his shirt.

"Because you bathe in some hot ass water," he said with a mouth full of toothpaste.

"Punk," she pouted.

"What? I'm serious. That water is scalding. My balls are very upset with you right now."

She couldn't help but laugh as she sank back in the water. It had been a hell of a night but she had survived and as much as she dreaded facing everyone all over again, she knew in the morning that's exactly what she would do. She would move on and keep on and when times got rough, she could lean on Phil. Because so many people had disappointed her in her life, she found it a pointless weakeness to depend on others but there was something different about this guy. He seemed to genuinely care and that was what she needed in her life. When she was lost, Memphis knew that Phil would always be there to find her.


	18. Change Of Heart

Memphis finished loading her belongings into the trunk of the rental car. It was the beginning of yet another grueling travel week that had the RAW brand of the WWE road tripping it across the midwest. Memphis was making the first leg of the trek on her own and that was just fine with her. Sometimes the silence did make a noise but those noises would soon be quieted when Phil would be joining her from Chicago. Sighing after everything was tightly but neatly packed away, she closed the lid of the trunk and gasped when the open space revealed Randy Orton standing there.

"Wow, that's just creepy," Memphis rolled her eyes and shook her head.

He didn't say anything. She looked around and noted that there was no one else standing in the dark parking lot except for the two of them. A chill ran through her body as she felt fear consume her.

"Memphis…"

"What do you want, Orton? Why are you here? You want to yell at me, tease me, screw with my belongings, throw something at me, what? I'm sure it's going to be a good one. What is it this time?"

"No," he said quietly. "I just want to talk to you."

"No way," she shot back.

"Please."

What? Was The Viper actually being civil, using manners?

"I don't have anything to say to you," she turned to walk away but stopped when a firm hand placed a grip on her much smaller arm.

He held her in place until he walked in front of her, blocking her path. He towered over her, his blue eyes boring a hole right through her as Memphis tried to keep her cool.

"Just for a minute."

"Get your hands off me," she yelled, looking down.

She was being her usual defiant self but there was something deeper Randy saw as he studied her. He saw fear. She was afraid of him and instead of bringing instant gratification, it made him feel ill on his stomach. Instantly he recoiled.

"Sorry, look…I didn't mean to scare you. I just…I just need like five minutes of your time. What I have to say won't take long."

She stared at him. His face looked worried and he actually came off like a real human being when he wasn't smirking and sneering and up to no good. He looked like a different Randy Orton altogether but Memphis had been fooled before. They didn't call him The Viper for nothing. He was a snake and anyone foolish enough to get closed to him deserved to be bitten.

"I just don't get you," she looked in his eyes. "What more do you want? What more can you do to me?"

"Nothing. That's what I'm trying to say. Look, I fucked up…I fucked up bad. The other night…that was too much."

"And the dog shit in my bag and everything else wasn't?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah it was. I was wrong. All of it…it was stupid and petty and ridiculous and just wrong. I shouldn't have done it, any of it."

She still wasn't convinced.

"Then why did you?"

He could only shrug his shoulders. It was a question he had asked himself a million times over and a million times later, he still had no definitive answer.

"I don't know. I was a jerk."

"You are a jerk."

He chuckled in spite of the situation.

"You're right."

"What is this?"

"What?"

"This. The nice Randy."

"Look, I was wrong and I wanted to cop to that. I owe you that much. It is what it is."

"So you expect me to believe that you had a sudden change of heart."

"I guess you could say that. Yeah, something like that."

"Does it have something to do with Vince threatening to fire your ass and fining you a whole bunch of money? Everybody knows what happened, everybody heard."

"It's true but no that's not why I'm coming at you now."

"While we're on the subject, why are you?"

The truth was big bad Vince and his threats meant nothing to Randy. He feared neither the boss' bark or his bite and the money meant nothing either. Randy Orton was a rich man and had every material thing he wanted and needed. Cash was just another superficial pleasure and considering what he had done, he almost felt he deserved losing some of it.

"Memphis, I've done a lot of bad things," he began. "I can't make excuses for stuff. Most of it was my own fault. Pretty much since I've been here, I've ruled the locker room with an iron first. I bullied a lot of people, stuff that I used to be proud of…"

"And now?"

"Not so much. I don't know. It's not fun anymore and I guess it hasn't been for a long time."

"Well excuse me for not feeding into the whole new and improved RKO. Sorry but I'm just not buying it."

"You don't have to and who could blame you? I did some pretty messed up stuff to get your attention, to get a reaction out of you. I don't know why. Maybe it's because you had the sack to stand up to me. I guess I didn't know how to take that so I took it too far. It was a tit for tat thing. I piss you off, you piss me off and it never ends. But uh…spying on you in the gym that night…"

She shuddered at the mere thought.

"That was absolutely sick and demented and disgusting. I can't believe you did that. That is so weird and crazy and a total invasion of my privacy. How could you?"

"It was wrong to watch and even worse to throw that in your face, especially in front of everyone, I admit that. When I did and I saw the look on your face…I don't know. Suddenly it wasn't gratifying or funny or any of that anymore. I looked into your eyes and I saw real hurt and for some reason it really bothered me. I can't figure out why but it did."

"I'm sure you've hurt a lot of people. Why me? Why was it different this time?"

"I don't know. I wish I did. But that look on your face…I still see it. It…it bothers me."

"Good. It should. And I hope you don't expect me to feel sorry for you. Hell, I still don't even believe you're even being genuine right now. You're probably up to something."

"I'm not. I know you think that and you have every right to think that. There's nothing I can do to prove you wrong, only time will tell, I guess. I just wanted to look in your eyes and tell you that the past few months I've treated you badly. I was mean. I was a real dick. I was unfair and there are just no words. I'm ashamed, actually ashamed of what I've done. It's hard for me to say that to you, to anyone. In case you haven't figured it out, I'm not exactly the guy known for throwing around apologies…"

"And I still haven't heard one tonight. All I've heard is a lot of pussyfooting and whining and rambling and you trying to make excuses for your bad behavior and in the process ease your guilty conscience."

"I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear? I know it's what you deserve so there it is. I said it. I'm sorry for everything that I've done to you."

"I deserve an apology and a whole hell of a lot more but you don't get off that easy, you don't just get to walk away. I'm not gonna do that for you, not tonight, Orton. Too much has happened. You don't get to walk away scott free, you don't deserve to sleep well tonight. If you're really sincere about all this, maybe you could start with facing your own demons and owning all the destruction you've caused. It's not just a game. You sit back and you pull people's puppet strings for your own entertainment and it really hurts people. And you don't care. In fact, you get off on fucking with people's lives. Now because for some crazy reason you actually feel bad about it or maybe you're just bored with it all, I am supposed to shake your hand and accept your apology and go about my merry way, pretending like nothing ever happened?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"No, I didn't expect that at all."

"Then what the hell did you expect?"

He looked in her eyes. She was still damned angry. Lightning flashed and it turned the warm hazel a dark black. She wasn't cutting him any slack and doing him any favors and she certainly wasn't letting him off the hook. That was just her way. And standing there in boots, skinny jeans, a dark tank and made up with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, she actually looked gorgeous doing it.

"I don't know what I expected. Look, I don't want anything from you, Memphis. I don't deserve anything. I just wanted to lay it all out there and apologize and let you know that it's over. It never should have really started but I kept it going and now I'm calling a truce. You should be able to come to work and do your job and not have to worry about bullshit."

Memphis took one step closer to him.

"From the first day I came to this company, you have done nothing but make me miserable, make my life a living hell. I never did anything to you except for stand up for myself yet you kept coming like a Doberman on a short leash. You can apologize all you want…your words mean nothing to me."

"They say actions speak louder than words."

"Screw your actions too. I don't care. All I feel is anger and contempt and disgust for you and that is all I will ever feel. All the weak ass apologies in the world can't and won't change that. If you really want to do me a favor, if you really want to prove you've changed, stay away from me and stay away from Phil, too."

"Yeah, he made that clear the other night."

"What?"

"I ran into him in San Antonio. Let's just say he wasn't too happy with me. Threatened to kick my teeth in if I ever hurt you again."

Memphis had to suppress a smile. It felt nice that Phil had stood up for her like that but in the moment, that was beside the point.

"You're not even worth it."

Her words were slow and deliberate and for the life of him, Randy couldn't figure out why they stung him so much.

"I get that you're mad and you're probably gonna be mad for a long time. That's okay. I, I guess I just want you to know I'm for real. Look, we're never gonna be best friends or anything but maybe we can at least squash all the bad blood. I'm just trying to fix this somehow."

Reluctantly he extended his hand. Memphis looked at it with utter disdain.

"You can't fix this," she walked away. "Go to hell, Orton."

He watched her brush past him, get in the car, crank it up and pull out of the parking lot. Memphis left him standing there until he disappeared from the view in her rear mirror. She pulled onto the nearest highway, not even bothering to pay attention to the GPS. Aimlessly she drove for a few miles but the tightness in her chest and the sweat on her palms was so overwhelming that she was forced to pull over at the next exit. Putting the car in park and gripping the steering wheel, she forced out a deep breath. What the hell had just happened? What was Randy Orton's deal? The humility, the sincerity, the genuineness? It made her mad as hell. How dare he? What a nerve! He was a real piece of work. From their very first encounter he had been nothing short of a monster who had made it his mission to make her life a living hell. He had managed to succeed and after repeatedly humilating her and breaking her spirit, now she was just supposed to believe he was sorry? She was supposed to accept that and be fine and forgive and forget? That was never going to happen.

But there was something else. Their interactions had always been intense and like always, Memphis had stood her ground but every single time they were together, it was like his presence stole a little piece of her soul. And the way he had grabbed her arm had sent shivers of fear throughout her small frame. God, she hated him. And hate was such a strong word. Memphis Kramer had never hated anyone in her life but Randy Orton had managed to bring out the worst in her. He had a knack for that. And unfortunately they had to work together. She knew she would see him again…and again and again. The very thought made her want to vomit and she had no idea what she was going to do. As she struggled to regain a normal breathing pattern and tears of anxiety rolled down her cheeks, she only had one thought. Damn, Randy Orton.


	19. The End Of The Ice Age

Randy Orton leaned back in his custom luxury chair on his tour bus that had been designed specifically for his comfort. It was another show, another city. For the last few weeks, the Legend Killer had been relatively quiet. The phrase low key and Randy Orton didn't usually go hand in hand but after everything that had happened with Memphis, he had decided it best to keep a low profile. He hadn't had one on one contact with her since that night in the parking lot though he saw her almost every day. She did her best to avoid him and the powers that be had ensured that she was not responsible for officiating any of his matches. But in reality Memphis Kramer was never far from his sight or his thoughts.

There was something about her and it had always been there since day one. Randy couldn't quite put his finger on it. She was beautiful but pretty girls came a dime a dozen in his line of work. Memphis was just different. Her background, the way she carried herself, the way she stood up for herself. They said it was a thin line between love and hate and that had been evidenced by his never ending intrigue for her. He had been just as fixated with her as she had been unimpressed by him. It only fueled his interest, his obsession for her. Their confrontations were legendary and his wrath had been beyond harsh. In the darkest of moments, he hadn't been able to get her out of his mind. Now that the torture and hazing was over, he still couldn't get her out of his mind.

"Knock, knock," came a rap at the door.

Randy peered out the window. It was John Cena.

"Come in," he muttered.

John climbed on the bus and took a seat across from his friend. Randy was quiet and sullen, even more so than usual.

"You okay?" John asked, studying his friend's face.

"I'm good," Randy didn't even bother looking up.

"Who are you wrestling tonight?"

"Sheamus."

John nodded.

"You guys work out your spots yet?"

"In a minute," Randy mumbled.

"Dude, what's your problem?"

Randy glanced up giving him that classic, icy Viper stare.

"What are you talking about? You came here bothering me."

John smirked.

"I'd prefer caring instead of bothering. Just making sure you're alright, man."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," John shrugged. "You just haven't seemed like yourself since that whole thing with Memphis."

They were close but even John had to tread carefully.

"It's no big deal."

"You know, I'm not usually one to put in my two cents…"

"Since when?" Randy raised an eyebrow.

John chuckled.

"…But I will anyway. Look, I know you must be pissed about how everything went down. Vince fined the hell out of your ass and I think he might actually be prepared to make good on those threats of firing you if it comes down to it. You're my friend and a hell of a wrestler. You're a huge part of this company, the biggest part and I'd hate to see you throw all that away. That's why you've got to stop this, Ran…all of it. The women, the drinking, the weed, the bullying, the rebellion…it's getting real old. I know that's not you. There's more to you than that, you just choose not to let people see that side of you. I get that. But this time you went too far. What happened with Memphis…that was low, even for you. It was uncalled for. You were way out of line and you know it. I know it's not in the Viper's nature but this time, you've got to man up and apologize. I'm just saying."

"What if I already have?" Randy looked right at him.

"What?"

"You look surprised."

"You admitting you're wrong? Yeah, that just shocked the shit out of me. You really apologized to her?"

Randy nodded.

"I fucked up. I can't make excuses, Cena. Wrong is wrong."

"I'm glad you realize that but I just don't get it. Why? How did it even start in the first place?"

Randy just shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know."

"Was it because she didn't take your shit? Is it because she does her own thing and doesn't care what other people think about her?"

"I don't know, man, maybe both. It's weird."

"You were a real dick to her, you and DiBiase."

"I know. And it was fun at first. I enjoyed it."

"How do you get off on screwing with people's lives like that?"

"I guess I never saw it like that. I didn't like her. I wanted her to quit. We played some cruel jokes on her and yeah, at the time I liked getting a reaction out of her."

"What changed it?"

"That last night…the look on her face. It, it was pretty bad, man. I can't explain it. It's like something inside of me just snapped. It stopped being fun. I realized how much I had hurt her and for some reason, it really started to bother me. I don't know why. I didn't, I don't want it to bother me but it did. I guess it still does. Anyway, I backed off and not just because of Vince. I did it because it was the right thing to do. So I went up to her and told her I was sorry."

"And?"

"She ain't having it. She blew me off and told me to go to hell."

"Can you blame her?"

"No. But…"

"But what?"

Randy stared off absently into space, his piercing blue eyes reflecting deep thought.

"It's something about her, John."

"Like what?"

"I wish I knew. I just can't stop thinking about her."

John paused for a second before his thought process caught up with him.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"You like her, don't you? You're attracted to her…."

"She's a pretty girl but…"

"But what?"

"I don't know. Never mind. It's not important."

"The hell it's not. What's going on with you?"

"Listen…"

"No, you listen. This shit sounds like a recipe for disaster so let me give you a few words of advice. Whatever you're thinking, you've got to stop it…now. You did some pretty fucked up stuff to this girl and you're lucky your ass didn't get fired and that she didn't sue you for sexual harassment. Okay, maybe you're genuinely sorry and if it's for real, then that's good. Apologizing was definitely the right thing to do. She didn't accept and no one can blame her and that's fine. So your best bet is just to leave well enough alone. Don't talk to her, don't go getting in Phil's face and for the love of God, don't try to sleep with her."

"It's not about that.

"Good."

"I'm done. She doesn't want to talk so I won't push it."

"It's for the best. Hopefully this will be a lesson learned for you."

"Whatever," Randy smirked.

"Not to get all gay and sappy on you but you're a good dude. We've been friends for a long time. You don't have anything to prove, man. Everyone respects you for what you can do in that ring, now let them respect you for the kind of man, the kind of human being you are. You don't have to be the bully, the tough guy anymore. Just relax and be yourself."

Randy just shook his head and chuckled. John was a good friend and he knew what he was trying to do. He appreciated it even. But he was still Randy Orton. And his pride was bigger than his hulking frame.

"Save the speeches for the after school specials."

"You're my brother from another mother. Just looking out," John slapped Randy's hand.

"And you're a tool now get the fuck off my bus," he grinned, slapping it back. "Come on. We've got matches to go get ready for."

The two men exited the bus and entered the arena where everyone was in the mix of the usual pre show chaotic scene. Bags in hand, Randy and John headed to the locker room area. On the way, they ran into a few of the referees. They were huddled up talking, agitated and angry.

"What's going on, guys?" John nodded in acknowledgment.

"Nothing much," Mike Chioda shook his head. "We just got a heads up on the pay per view."

Survivor Series was fast approaching.

"Anything noteworthy?"

"Big news for you two, not so much for us," Mike motioned to the other guys.

"What's going on?"

"A triple threat…you two and Wade Barrett, no holds barred for the title. It's gonna be epic."

"Sounds like it," Randy nodded. "About time Creative got their heads out of their asses."

"Yeah but that's not the worst part. You'll never guess who Vince assigned to ref the match. Or maybe you can, his little pet."

The other referees smirked and shook their head in disdain as John and Randy exchanged glances. And just then, as if on cue, Memphis and Phil walked by. Randy just stared at her. She was wearing workout clothes and he couldn't help but wonder if she'd just finished actually training or banging that Straight Edge loser again in the middle of some gym. Randy quickly shook it off but he was still impressed by how toned her arms were, her defined her thighs and calfs were and how nice her ass looked in those shorts.

"Hey guys," Memphis nodded.

She always spoke although no one ever spoke back. This time, John decided to be the bigger person.

"Memphis, Phil, how's it going?"

"Fine, man," Phil looked right at him.

"Good, John. How are you?" Memphis asked.

"Good. We, um, we were just talking about Survivor Series. I heard you got our match, the main event."

A real smile came to her face.

"Yeah. It, it was a real surprise but I'm thrilled. I'm looking forward to working with you."

She smiled a real smile at John but a hardened frown quickly overcame her the minute she glanced in Randy's direction.

"Well congratulations," John said sincerely.

"Thanks," she answered before Phil put a protective arm around her slim waist and they began walking towards the back.

The other referees were quiet but seething. Randy just watched. A few feet away he saw Phil whisper something to Memphis as they stopped and he walked away. She stood waiting and within earshot, they saw Mike "The Miz" Mizanin approach the pretty referee.

"Memphis, right?" he stood in front of her.

Memphis shot him a skeptical look.

"Yeah…"

He extended his hand.

"My name is Mike and I should have done this a long time ago. Look, I know you've had a rough time since you got here. Everybody has to work to fit in but sometimes it's tougher for some people. I've been where you've been. Nobody respected me or took me seriously when I came to this company. I've had to work extra hard and so have you. I'm sorry everyone gave you such a hard time and I'm even more sorry that I didn't reach out. I hope it's not too late."

His voice was quiet and sincere.

"Thank you," she mouthed shaking his hand.

He walked away and slowly, one by one, various Superstars and Divas followed suit, walking up to a woman they had either ignored or tormented. Now they were attempting to make amends.

"See?" John slapped his friend on the back as they watched. "That's not so bad, is it?"

Randy shrugged.

"It is what it is. She's held her own in that ring just like the men have. She deserves to be here."

He watched her intently. The relief practically poured off of her. Like any human being, all she had wanted was acceptance, respect. And now she was getting it. Everything she was feeling could be seen in her eyes and for some odd reason, that warmed Randy to his core. His ice heart had been melted and for the life of him, he still could not figure out why.


	20. Takes One To Know One

A post production meeting had occurred after the live RAW broadcast and the subsequent untelevised dark match that always followed it. That meant that some of the talent and crew did not get out of the arena until almost one in the morning. Memphis was one of them. Phil had not been involved in the meeting and had been complaining all day of the pain from the nagging hip injury that had temporarily sidelined his wrestling career. She hated seeing him suffer so much so she had given him a hug and a quick kiss and sent him off to the hotel to rest. They had set in a board room backstage going over various production notes for upcoming events. When she finally was done, she was exhausted and looking forward to getting some sleep in a nice, warm bed.

But things had been going much better ever since that surprising night when Mike Mizanin and the other WWE Superstars and Divas made their amends and introduced themselves, calling a literal cease fire to the end of the Cold War that had begun when she had started with the company. She had been too relieved and happy to be skeptical of their actions but the genuine and accepting behavior had continued and the tension free backstage environment soon became the norm much to Memphis' delight. Sure there was the situation with Randy Orton and the fact that the other male referees still had sticks up their asses but other than that, life was pretty damned good.

"Hey Memphis, do you need a ride back to the hotel?" Melina Perez asked, waving as Memphis was gathering the last of her belongings.

Memphis looked up and grinned.

"No thanks. I have a car tonight. Phil caught a ride back to the hotel and left me the keys but um, I'll definetly see you tomorrow."

"Sure thing. I'll call you. Maybe you and Phil can have breakfast with John and me."

"Okay. Sounds good."

Memphis smiled to herself. It was a nice feeling, she thought as she wheeled her luggage out to the dark and emptied parking lot. For the first time she was actually fitting in and making friends. To her right she noticed that a few fans had lingered around. This was not uncommon. The WWE Universe was loving and loyal, even rabid at times. The fans were always clamoring to get a piece of the favorites that they saw on TV. Memphis rather enjoyed the attention. Their love and acceptance that had so greatly affected her reality was part of why she did what she did. She always put herself in their place. She could feel their excitement and their longing and she felt an obligation to appease them, take care of them, please them even. It was a responsibility she readily accepted and welcomed.

"Memphis, hey can we please get a picture with you?" a small group of fans excitedly asked.

"Sure guys," she smiled, putting her things down.

She happily posed for several photos and signed some autographs before thanking the fans and then heading towards the direction of her rental car.

"You're Memphis, that new referee, right?" a young guy asked with a nod as he puffed on a cigarette.

He was standing with two friends.

"Yeah. Hi."

"What's up? Can we get an autograph or something?"

"Of course. Who should I make it out to?" she asked, pulling out her black Sharpie.

They mumured something amongst themselves and chuckled. It made her slightly uncomfortable.

"Keith," he said.

She scribbled her name on his copy of a WWE magazine.

"There you go, Keith. You guys have a good night and thanks for coming out to the show."

"Where you headed off to, baby girl?"

"It's late," she cleared her throat. "I'm headed back to my hotel. We have a busy travel schedule ahead this week."

"Can I take you out to get something to eat?"

She blushed.

"Um, I appreciate the offer but I'm going to have to pass. Sorry. Thank you anyway."

"You got a man or what?" he asked.

She did not like where this was going.

"Yes and he's waiting for me now so I really have to go. Good night, guys"

"I'm sure he won't mind," he reached out and touched her arm.

Memphis recoiled at the physical contact. She looked around and felt uneasy noting that she appeared to be alone with the three men.

"Please don't touch me," she said politely but firmly.

"Oh I get it. You one of them uppity hoes, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"You think you're hot shit because you're a referee and all. You're not even all that."

Shaking her head, she turned to leave. The men were not letting her get away so easily. One even blocked her path.

"Can you please move out of the way?" she asked, hands on her hips.

She was feeling both irritation and fear.

"Leaving so soon? I thought we were getting to know each other. The party is just getting started."

"Guys, give it a rest. Come on."

"What's your problem? Hell, you lucky someone even wants an autograph from your tired ass. You act like you're some prize, like you're Maryse or Michelle McCool or something. You ain't shit."

She rolled her eyes.

"Well so sorry to disappoint you," she muttered sarcastically.

"Hey fellas, a bitch with an attitude. Imagine that?"

"What do you want?"

The one with the big mouth looked her up and down, then licked his lips.

"I can think of a few things. You might be some no talent trick but you look like you're a decent fuck."

Before she knew it, she felt a pair of arms snaking around her waist.

"Hey! Stop it," Memphis called out, elbowing the man and quickly pulling away.

"Oh that's assault. I'm hurt. I'm gonna sue you. I'm gonna sue Vince McMahon."

Another approached her and before Memphis could move she heard foosteps bounding towards her. She feared that it was the third guy but then there was silence and suddenly no one was touching her.

"What the hell…" she heard one of them say.

Turning around, that's when she saw him. Coming out of the shadows like a modern day super hero was the Viper himself. He had apparently pushed the two guys off of her.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked.

His body language was stiff and tense, his eyes icy and angry. He looked on with clenched fists.

"No, man, no problem," one said.

The other had the nerve to grin.

"Oh shit, you're Randy Orton. Can we get an autograph, dude?"

Randy smirked.

"An autograph?" he repeated. "You can't get an autograph but what you can get is the hell out of here."

"Look, man, we were just playing around…"

"It didn't look like playing to me," Randy retorted. "In fact, it looked like you three assholes were being rude and disrespectful to a lady, to someone who was nice enough to stop and talk to you and sign your stupid little magazine."

With that, he smacked the magazine out of the guy's hand.

"No disrespect, no disrespect…"

Randy stepped closer towards them, towering over them.

"You were being very disrespectful and I don't like it. Apologize," he directed. "Now!"

"We're sorry," they mumbled.

Randy walked even closer cauising the other two to retreat leaving the ring leader to the Legend Killer. That was fine by Randy. He grabbed the guy by his jacket collar, lifting him a few inches off the ground.

"Listen to me, you disrespectful, slimy piece of shit. I don't know where you get off putting your hands on women or trying to force yourself in their company but no means no and that's a lesson you need to learn, you stupid little prick."

"I learned my lesson, man, promise," he squirmed, his voice hitting a fearful almost feminine fever pitch.

"Get your sorry ass out of here before I beat you and your little homies here to the ground. And I better not ever see any of you again. If I do, I can't promise that I won't try to tear you three punks to shreds. I mean it. So I better not catch you in the stands, at fan events or especially lurking around some parking lot. You got that?"

"Okay, okay. We got it, man. Sorry. Just let me go."

He let them go and they went off scurrying like rats.

"Oh my God," Memphis tried to catch her breath.

"Are you alright?" Randy turned to face her.

Memphis looked away.

"I'm fine."

She picked up her bags and started walking away.

"Memphis…"

"Just leave me alone," she didn't bother turning around or stopping.

"I was just checking to see if you were okay."

"And I told you I was. You can leave now."

She had an attitude that was starting to unnerve him. He had been on his way to his bus and had caught sight of what looked like a fishy situation. The closer he came, the more he heard. It was disturbing and it made him angry. He knew the guys were up to no good and he felt an immediate instinct to protect her.

"Look," he bit his lip. "I know you and I have had our differences in the past or whatever and I get that you're stlll pissed off but I just saved your ass from those three jerk offs. There's no telling what they were going to do."

She finally stopped to face him.

"So? What do you want, Orton? A cartwheel? A cookie?"

His eyes narrowed.

"No but maybe a little gratitude would be nice."

"Gratitude? Dream on, hero," she shook her head.

"That's nice, real nice, Memphis," he grumbled.

"Let's see, three guys who I don't know and don't know me, accost me in a dark empty parking lot. They try to put their hands on me, make lewd comments, insult me and are just overall rude. One is a pushy ring leader and he has a bunch of dumb ass stooges following his pathetic lead."

"And I helped you before it got out of hand."

"Yeah but doesn't that situation seem oddly familiar?"

"What?

"Think about it. You swoop in and save the day like some knight in shining armor and all of a sudden I'm supposed to kiss your ass? Screw you, Orton. You are the biggest hypocrite standing on two feet. You have some nerve. What those guys just did, as horrible as it was, don't you realize that just up until a few weeks ago, that was you? You were the weird, disrespectful guy treating me like dirt, harassing me for no reason."

"Memphis…"

"You want some damned good samaritan medal? Get out of here. Not gonna happen. Those guys were jerks but there is no difference between you and them. You were just as bad as they were so no I'm not going to thank you and don't you think for a second, this makes up for or changes anything you did."

Her voice was loud, her face serious and angry. And she wasn't backing down, not for a second. Deciding it was better not to argue and just let her go, Randy did exactly that. He stood and watched as she safely made it to her car and took off. He took a deep breath. He was frazzled but then again she did seem to have that kind of affect on him. He had been so hellbent on saving her, he hadn't been prepared for her reaction. It stung him a bit especially because what she was saying was true. Randy Orton was rarely the guy who admitted he was wrong and when he did, he expected immediate forgiveness but forgiving him was the last thing on Memphis Kramer's mind. And a part of him couldn't blame her. Maybe John had been right during their little talk aboard his bus. Maybe it was better to just stay away from her. That was something his head could fully understand but he was having a hard time explaining it to his heart.


	21. Only The Strong Survive

Memphis Kramer stood in front of the full length mirror and took one last look at her reflection. She was satisifed with what she saw. Her black slacks and fitted striped referee's shirt had been starched and neatly pressed. It fit her sleek figure perfectly. She had added more dramatic touches to her normally more sublte make up job but the night was a special occasion. Leaving her dark brown hair down and loosely curled, she blew out a nervous but excited breath. It was a moment she had been waiting for…it was her chance to officiate the main event at a WWE pay per view and she was beyond thrilled. What had made it even more exciting was the change in her peers and the fact that they had been more accepting. She felt like one of the gang and it was a nice feeling. The only thing missing was her sidekick, Punk. His conspicuous absence on her big night had affected her more than she thought it would but the phone call she received right on cue brought a huge smile to her face.

"Hey you," she answered cheerfully.

"Why so chipper? You act like you're about to live a lifelong dream and referee one of the biggest matches in pay per view history…oh that's right…"

Memphis laughed out loud.

"You are so silly, you know that? I was waiting for you to call."

"Sitting around with bated breath pining away and missing me?"

"Not exactly but you get the point."

"I take what I can get, Dollface."

"How was your MRI?"

Phil's travel schedule had been pre-empted by a trip to the doctor to further access the damage to his injured hip.

"Not too bad. It was just like being stuck in a really noisy coffin."

"Yikes."

"But the doc says it looks a lot better and all the rest and rehab has certainly made it feel better so we'll see. They'll have the results in a few days and we'll take it from there."

"Well good luck. You will be at RAW tomorrow night, right?"

"With bells on. I fly out at nine in the morning."

"Awesome. And you'll be watching tonight?"

"Got the remote set. The best $44.95 I ever spent for a 20 minute peep show featuring the world's hottest ref."

"You're too sweet, Punk."

"Oh you thought I was talking about you? Actually, I was referring to Justin King but…"

"Oh shut up. Listen, I have to run. I have to get to the Gorilla. I'll send you a text when everything is over. Wish me luck."

"Knock 'em dead."

She smiled as she hung up and hurried to her position. On the way, she bumped into Charles Robinson one of the senior referees. He had just finished officiating one of the other matches and was still in his gear.

"On your way to the Gorilla, huh?" he looked her up and down with a frown.

"Yeah," she cleared her throat. "It's time for the match."

"Main event, triple threat Barrett, Cena, and Orton at Survivor Series. That's a pretty big deal, you know? Matches like that are usually reserved for the refs that have been on board for a few years."

"Yeah, well, Vince makes the decisions so I guess he decided to take another route."

"I guess so," he nodded. "But just know because he asked you to do it, you didn't have to accept."

"Excuse me?"

"You could have declined and gave the match to one of the other guys. That would have been the respectable thing to do."

Memphis folded her arms.

"You mean give it to you?"

"Well…"

"You know what, Charles? That's not going to happen. This is a huge opportunity that was given to me because Vince McMahon believes in me. This is what I've worked so hard for and I would be a fool to have turned this down or given it away. And for what? A bunch of guys that still don't like me or respect me, that view me as a useless novelty and pair of tits and ass in referee stripes? That's crazy. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. I'm working hard still trying to pay dues and I hope one day that you and the rest of the other referees back off and accept me. If you don't, well, I realize I can't change that but instead of hating me because I'm a threat to you, you could drop the nonsense and we could all be mature and co exist and life backstage would be a lot easier."

He said nothing and Memphis had nothing else to say. Instead, she kept walking to where the guys were waiting for her. She found John Cena in his trademark jean shorts, sneakers, and the purple and yellow colors of the Cenation on his hat and tee shirt. He was bouncing around and grinning, a bundle of nervous energy that couldn't wait to be out there in his element in the middle of the ring. To his left was Stu Bennett, better known as Wade Barrett. He wore a Nexus tee shirt over his black wrestling trunks. He was a brooding and quiet presence who kept to himself as he tried to mentally prepare for his matches. And creeping up to John's right was The Viper. With an icy stare and a cocky approach he strolled his perfectly tanned, muscled and baby oiled body to the Gorilla. A senior Production Manager came over and went over last minute notes and instructions and then it was time.

"Alright everybody," Cena nodded. "Let's get it done. Time to kick some ass."

He put his fist out and bumped it with Stu's and Randy's and the trio waited for Memphis to join them. She smiled as she enjoyed that single moment with her co-workers, cringing slightly as she and Randy Orton made awkward physical contact. The lights came on as the officiator, Memphis made her way down the ramp first to cheers from the fans. To up the stakes and make the matchup even more thrilling, the powers that be had decided last minute to surround the ring with a steel cage. Then one by one, Barrett, Cena, and Orton were introduced each to an incredible reaction from the thousands in attendance. Orton being the Champion, was afforded the final entrance and smirk on his face, he strolled down the aisle as Voices played in the background. He entered the ring with a blatant confidence that followed him all the way to the second rope where he raised the title belt in the air before throwing both arms back in that classic RKO pose.

Memphis found herself staring, studying his every move almost. He was a beautiful specimen of a man and a multi talented athlete. He had an aura about him that drew people in like moths to a single burning flame. There was something about the way he strutted around that ring that was intriguing. It was her only opportunity to see the other side of the man who for months had tortured her. The ring was his home and there he was king and those fleeting moments gave her a unique insight into why Randal Keith Orton was so revered. She looked at him and he turned his head, blue eyes meeting brown. Memphis quickly looked away and then the bell sounded signifying the beginning of the match.

There would be no pin falls or submissions, the only way to win was to escape the cage by climbing over the top or walking out the door with both feet planted firmly on the floor. Sizing each other up, the three men stared at one another contemplating their first move as Memphis stood nearby. Wade Barrett decided in the first few minutes to go for an easy exit by quickly scaling the cage. Cena and Orton would have none of it and chased him and pulled him down roughly. Each man took their time wailing on the cornered Barrett, trading between vicious punches and kicks. When Barrett was incompactiated on the mat, Cena and Orton then turned their attentions to each other. Randy had managed to take down Cena with a beautiful text book clothesline only to receive a boot to the skull out of nowhere from a fully recovered Wade Barrett.

Barrett remained on the offense attempting to crush his opponent with his finisher Wasteland but Orton countered and ran to the cage, quickly scaling up the side. He'd almost made it to the top before Wade grabbed him by the ankles with some help from John Cena. There came the moment of truth where Barrett and Cena, two bitter in ring enemies would have to make the decision to work together to put away their very formidible opponent. Reluctantly they launched an assault on Orton who lay crumpled in a corner as the fans chanted the name Randy over and over again. Barrett tried with a boot to the throat which Randy sold perfectly. Keeping up the kayfabe of it all, Memphis sternly warned Barrett and began the count before he released with a smirk. The Viper wouldn't be kept down for long. He fought his way back trading blows with John Cena which allowed Barrett to try to make his esacpe. Cena chased him while Randy used the chance to rest in the corner.

"You okay?" Memphis asked.

"I'm good," Randy answered before hopping back up and joining in the action again.

He quickly regained supremacy even as his foes cornered him. After a brutal fight, Randy once again climbed to the top of the cage swinging his long legs over the side. John Cena was hot on his heels and with the help of Wade Barrett, pulled the Legend Killer back into the ring. Immediately Randy countered Cena and took him down with a drop kick. But with three of the top Superstars in the ring at one time, chaos took effect as the upper hand seemed to change over every other minute. Brief alliances came and went as the bottom line was that every man was there for himself. The scripted ending for the match after an intense 23 minute showdown would be for Randy Orton to battle his way through John Cena and Wade Barrett and end it with two back to back RKOs rendering him the option to walk out of the front door like the proud and dominant champion he was. The match was progressing nicely and the fans were really into it. It was almost over and after receiving communication through her earpiece from production, Memphis subtly let the the three competitors know that they were good on time. Barrett made his last attempt for escape over the top as Cena lay crumpled in the opposite corner. As planned, Randy Orton chased him. Randy was supposed to scale the cage after him and pull him down but in an instant something went terribly wrong. It was a simple accident, a miscalculated move that could have happened to anyone. Randy's boot slipped on the rope and he lost his footing. Even though he was new to the business, Stu Bennett knew how to improvise and save a match when things went off script. He sold the punches that Randy had given him and doubled over insinuating that he couldn't hold on to the cage any longer. But saving the match was the least of their worries.

The fall wouldn't have been as bad if it hadn't been from such a distance. He cursed to himself as he toppled to the ground but when he finally landed, it wasn't the mat that he hit. Instead something else broke his fall. Temporarily disoriented, Randy shook his head then recoiled when he saw what lay underneath him. In a crushed heap on the floor of the ring was Memphis Kramer. Wrestlers ran spots all the time where they accidentally "injured" the referee but such spots had not been planned for this match. And looking at a motionless Memphis, Randy instantly knew that she was really hurt. The three men exchanged uneasy glances unsure of how to proceed. When Memphis did not answer Prouction's feed on her earpiece, they immediately knew something was wrong and in a jiff Jack Doan was running down the ramp and headed for the ring. The match resumed and the Champ, obviously distracted had to go on as if there wasn't a woman lying still and hurt because of him, just a few feet away. They finished the match in under four minutes as planned but there was little time to celebrate. Breaking character, the Apex Predator slid back into the ring and hovered over Memphis. Her eye had started to blackened and there was a trickle of blood on the bridge of her nose. It was obvious that she had caught his boot on the way down.

"Memphis! Memphis!" he whispered a little louder when she did not respond.

She was breathing and her pulse was strong so he had no reason to fear the worst. She had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had been knocked out. She would be okay but medical attention was still a necessary.

"She okay?" Cena joined them.

"We need a medic and tell them it's not a work," Stu instructed to Doan.

All the while Randy was frozen as he kneeled over the woman he had accidentally hurt. He had already caused her so much mental and emotional anguish and now because of him she was now hurt physically. Everything around him…John and Stu, the fans, the noise, and the chaos suddenly didn't matter. All that did matter was the young woman crumpled beneath him. Even with Stu and John and Jack looking on in concern and trying to help, Randy felt an urge, a responsibility to protect her. His facial expression and body language told them in no uncertain terms to back off.

"It's gonna be okay," he said softly as he looked down and cradled her in his strong arms.

And all he could do was pray that it would be. If something more serious was wrong with Memphis, Randy would never be able to forgive himself.


	22. Three's A Crowd

Randy Orton had spent the most restless night of his life inside a suite at a Hyatt hotel in Miami, Florida. Sunday November 21st had been the night of the Survivor Series pay per view and the event where he was scheduled to victoriously defend his championship belt in a triple threat match. In a twist, his one time real life arch nemesis, Memphis Kramer, had been hand selected by Vince McMahon himself to officiate the main event. Though Randy had made good on his promise and backed off, the tension between the two was still tangible. And on top of it all, Randy couldn't stop thinking about the woman. It was a deadly combination that had culminated in a horrific accident.

Accidents and mishaps occurred all the time in the ring. Though it was important to save face, in their business the main thing was to make sure your opponent and anyone else involved was not injured. A simple slip had ruined everything. Randy Orton was no lightweight and his six foot four inch 245 pound frame had crashed into her smaller body with devastating force. The impact alone had knocked Memphis out cold for a matter of minutes. After the match ended and the live broadcast was over, the EMTs rushed out and only then did Memphis began to stir. With lightening speed, she had been snatched out of his embrace and placed on an ambulance bound stretcher.

John Cena had practically had to physically restrain Randy from going to the hospital that night. Considering the history between Randy and Memphis, John had told him it was not a good idea. So a pissed off and very reluctant Randy had gone back to the hotel and waited for word. Updates on Memphis' condition had not been communicated to and by five a.m. he was sick with worry. Monday Night RAW was going to take place a few hours north in Orlando and Randy's tour bus had been scheduled to take off a little before nine in order to be at the arena by 2 p.m. Randy had bordered the bus with his gear and bags in tow but there was pit stop he needed to make before getting on the Interstate.

"Hey, I'm looking for someone named Memphis Kramer," he said flatly to the greeter at the information desk at the University of Miami hospital. "She was admitted here late last night."

The woman smiled and clicked a few keys on the computer before looking up at him.

"Room 412, sir."

Randy nodded and found a nearby elevator that took him to the fourth floor. He stepped out and began looking at the different room numbers before pausing in front of the door he was looking for. It was ajar and he knocked once, his large hands only opening it even further. It was quiet and he looked inside. There was a machine beeping in the corner next to a bed. Upon further investigation, he saw the tiny silouhette of a human being lying underneath the covers. His breath caught in his throat. She looked so vulnerable, so fragile and helpless lying there.

"Good morning, sir," a friendly nurse entered the room.

"Hey," Randy turned his attention towards her. "How…how is she?"

"Are you a friend of Ms. Kramer's?"

Randy frowned.

"Yeah, um, I guess you could say that. We work together."

"She's okay. That was quite the fall she suffered last night but we expect a full recovery."

Randy stared down at her.

"Why is she still unconscious?"

The nurse smiled.

"She's not. Exhasuted? Maybe but definitely not unconcious. She suffered a mild concussion and she cracked a rib. A small dose of Morphine is being administered via drip to keep her comfortable for now but she should be released later today, tomorrow morning at the latest."

Randy felt a smidgen of relief that instantly went away when he saw the hideous and obnoxious purple bruise that extended from the side of her head all the way down her face.

"Jesus Christ, what is that?" he asked in a horrified voice.

"It's called a hemotoma."

"That sounds bad."

"It's just a fancy word for a collection of blood outside the blood vessels. Ms. Kramer has what we call a scalp hematoma that has affected the muscles and tissue outside of the skull. She has a nasty bump and bruise but we kept her here for observation to ensure there was no active internal bleeding."

"Was there any?"

"No. She's lucky"

After checking a few more things, the nurse left them alone closing the door. Randy, ignoring the clock, pulled up a chair next to the bed.

"Hey," he began, awkwardly clearing his throat. "Um, it's me, Randy. I, I don't know if you can hear me or not. I might be wasting my breath but I had to see you. I'm on my way to Orlando for RAW tonight but it looks like you're not gonna be able to make it. The good news is, you're gonna be okay. The cracked rib thing…yeah that hurts like hell. I had one before and it sucks but you're tough. You'll be okay. And it looks like you're going to be okay with the head injury too. That, that's good.

Look, I know I'm probably the last person you expected to see. I know I haven't exactly shown myself to be a good guy and all but…I don't know, Memphis. This one is all on me. It's my fault and I am manning up and admitting that. You know mistakes happen all the time in the ring and unfortunately people get hurt. I slipped, what can I say? I didn't mean to and I feel like shit for it. That's not a good feeling knowing you're the reason somebody else is hurt.

I've done some pretty bad things to you in the past. I've said I'm sorry and I know you don't believe me. I get that. It's cool. I can't say that I blame you. I know because of the way I acted before, it's kind of hard to trust me but I just wanted you to know, you have to know that this…last night was an accident. My boot legitmately slipped. I didn't mean to fall especially on top of you. I hurt you in other ways but I'd never hurt you physically and I just wanted you to know that. Hell, I wish it was me in that bed right now instead of you. It was an accident but I'm sorry all the same.

I'm just glad they say you're gonna recover and everything. You'll probably be back on the road before you know it. When you do, I don't know, I just hope things will be different between us. I'm not an asshole…I do want you to know that," he chuckled at the irony of it. "Sounds funny coming from me, huh? Okay, I don't always show my, shall we say, diplomatic side but I'm not a bad guy 24/7. I wish I could prove that to you. I wish you cared and that's really weird coming out of my mouth because I'm not the type of person who cares about what other people think about me.

But I'm being genuine this time. I said some mean stuff but the truth is, I don't think you're a novelty. You're good at what you do and everyone sees that now. Obviously you're not going anywhere and neither am I. May as well learn how to work together and get along. So I guess I'm asking for a truce of some sorts. Maybe we can start over and I won't be an asshole to you and hopefully we take it from there."

She was absolutely silent and still. Leaning over, Randy reached out and gently laid his and across her arm. Just as he did, the door flew open.

"What the fuck is this?"

Randy abruptly stood.

"Phil…"

The young woman's boyfriend had flown in from his native Chicago. His flight had been originally scheduled to land in Orlando for the show but due to his girl's injury and 24 hour observation hold, he had diverted his plane to Miami to be with her. The WWE execs had been understanding and the RAW commentary would just have to go one week without the colorful comments of CM Punk.

Phil had landed at Miami Dade International and cabbed it straight to the hospital. He had been kept abreast of Memphis' condition since the fall and though relieved that it wasn't more serious, he was nevertheless concerned. He had watched it all go down live on pay per view and he better than anyone understood that innocent mistakes happened all the time in the ring but considering the ruthless behavior of Randy Orton towards his girlfriend, Phil was skeptical to swallow that it had been an accident from the beginning. He knew eventually they would run into the Champ but he expected it backstage in an arena during the following week, not in the hospital room.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Phil asked again, his voice rising in anger.

"I was on my way to Orlando and I stopped by. I wanted to see how she was doing."

"You mean you wanted to check out your handy work?"

"That's bullshit and we both know it, Phil. It was an accident."

"Whatever."

"Look…"

"Listen, I know you waltz around the locker room like you own it but your presence here is neither wanted or needed. Leave."

Randy chewed the inside of his lip. Part of him wanted to punch Phil in his face right then and there but he restrained himself. Putting himself in the guy's shoes, he could understand where he was coming from.

"Fine. Just when she wakes up, tell her I came by."

"I'm not gonna do that. It'll just upset her. You do seem to have that effect on her, you know."

Randy looked him up and down and smirked. The only thing keeping him from kicking Phil's ass all over that room was the fact that he was the distraught boyfriend but his foe was taking things a little too far.

"Fine. I'll just tell her myself when I see her next week," Randy brushed past him.

One foot was outside the door before he felt two hands give him a hard push to the middle of his back. Randy stumbled forward but caught himself before he fell in the middle of the hallway. Fists clenched and fire blazing in his eyes, he turned back around.

"Stay away from Memphis."

"Or what?" Randy sneered. "Are you trying to threaten me?"

"Take it however you want as long as you just leave her the hell alone. You've hurt her enough and I'm not gonna let you do it anymore."

Randy tried to keep his cool.

"I messed up before and I admitted that. That's on you if you still want to be mad and hold a grudge, that's fine but I swear to God, if you ever put your hands on me again…"

"What?"

"You want me to show you right now?"

Phil laughed out loud.

"I'd love nothing more. Vince and a good family name can't protect you now. You're not inside the ring anymore."

The two men charged at each other like raging, wild bulls.

"Stop it…"

The voice was so quiet, so weak that they barely heard her but it was enough to cause a quick cease fire. Both Randy and Phil looked over at the bed where a wincing Memphis was trying to sit up. Phil rushed over to her.

"You alright?"

She looked from Phil to Randy.

"What are you guys doing?"

"He's being an asshole as usual and I was trying to protect you. He's the reason you're here in the first place."

"Don't…"

"Memphis…"

"No, Punk. Please. Not here. Just…both of you, stop it."

The nurse returned to the room.

"Is everything okay here?" she raised an eyebrow.

Phil narrowed his eyes.

"We're fine. Our company was just leaving."

Torn between not wanting to cause a scene and wanting to pummel Phil, Randy went with the first option and exited the room without another word. Ignoring the stares he received in the hallway, he angrily marched back to the elevator. His intentions had been good and he knew if he'd had the chance to talk to Memphis when she was okay, he would have been able to make her see his point of view. But that whiny jerk Phil had ruined everything , then had the balls to try to get in his face. He was lucky he hadn't received an RKO right on top of the crash cart. But starting a public fight would only piss off Vince, garner negative and unwanted publicity, and further push Memphis away. Punching the wall above the elevator key pad, Randy cursed out loud. He had already alienated her enough and that was the last thing he wanted.


	23. Big Trouble In Cedar Rapids

Randy sighed as he lay on the bed of his luxury tour bus, socked clad feet against one of the windows as he aimlessly bounced a tennis ball against the seat opposite him. The city was Cedar Rapids, Iowa and that in itself was a huge drag. There was absolutely nothing to get into in Cedar Rapids, not that Randy needed something to get into. He had been laying low for the past few weeks and that was the best bet for all involved. Still he was bored and restless and he had a lot on his mind. That made for a dangerous combination and that was usually just the sort of thing that got Randy Orton into trouble.

It had been a week since his confrontation with Phil Brooks and the subsequent injury he had inadvertently caused Memphis Kramer during the pay per view. He felt awful about hurting her, just one more thing added to the guilt that already consumed him. Not knowing her condition only fueled his insanity. For days he had been trying unsuccessfully to get an update on her. Phil of course was a dead end. The two men had almost come to blows over it. And when Randy has casually asked the WWE brass what was going on, he had been admonished for what others feigned as faux concern. He had been told to stay away from her as if somehow they all thought he had hurt her on purpose. For Randy it was just too much.

He had already bailed on meeting John at the gym earlier that afternoon. Sure enough Cena had sent him a text message filled with whining and bitching and it had almost brought a smile to the Champ's face. But there was still an hour or so before everyone had to be at the arena. Randy knew a lot of the guys and girls were already inside but he didn't feel like seeing them just yet and he definietly didn't feel like running into a bunch of fans. So he had kept to himself with his dark and plentiful thoughts all alone on the tour bus that had become his solace and sanctuary. He took a look down at the Rolex that adorned his wrist and kept bouncing the ball. A few minutes later he heard a knock at the door.

"Go away!" he grumbled.

A few seconds later, the knocking persisted. Randy rolled his eyes. Cena was his best friend and all but there were times when he seriously wanted to pummel the guy.

"John, I'm not messing around, dude! Come on. I'll see you inside in a minute, now get the hell off my door!"

Another knock.

"Jesus Christ, dude," Randy mumbled to himself as he got up. "I am gonna kick your ass."

He marched to the front of the bus and swung the doors open.

"Look…" he began in an angry tirade but stopped short after the first word.

To his surprise, it was not John Cena standing on the other side. To his bigger surprise, he saw that it was Memphis.

"Hey," she said softly.

He stared at her blankly. The swelling and brusing on her face had gone down considerably but the cut from the actual contact of his boot was still quite visible.

"Memphis," he cleared the shock out of his throat. "What, what are you doing here?"

She shrugged.

"Looking for you actually. I, um, I didn't see you around the arena so I figured you'd be out here and uh…I guess I figured right."

"Yeah. I was just about to head in…"

"I'm glad I caught you."

He raised an eyebrow.

"You are?"

"Can we talk…in private?"

He looked around before nodding and letting her on the bus. She followed him to the back as he cleared a path of emtpy pizza boxes and bottles of beer.

"Sorry. It gets messy sometimes. I've been meaning to clean this shit up…"

"It's okay," she took a seat, looking around. "Wow. This is pretty cool. Your very own bus. Nice."

"Yeah," he answered uncomfortably. "It's pretty sweet."

Memphis nodded.

"I, I guess I better get to the point. We both know that I didn't come out here to admire your tour bus."

"Then why did you?" he asked.

She hugged her arms to her body and winced.

"Damn…"

"You okay?"

"Sorry. My ribs are still a little sore…"

He knew what that was like.

"You got them taped?"

"Yeah. It helps a lot but it still sucks."

"I know. I've been there, done that but um…I just wanted to say sorry. That night at Survivor Series…I'm sorry it happened. Shit goes down like that all the time in the ring and people, innocent people get hurt. Matches go off track. It's the nature of the beast but given our history and my track record…I know it might look a little suspicious. I just wanted you to know it was an accident. I swear. That wasn't another stupid prank and it wasn't on purpose. My foot slipped. I didn't mean to fall on you like that."

"I know," she said softly.

Randy looked genuinely surprised.

"You do?"

"Yeah and that's why I wanted to talk to you. I think it's time. Before last week I was still so pissed off at you for every bad thing you did to me that I couldn't let any of it go. And I guess a part of me was afraid. I didn't know what you were capable of, what you were going to do next. I was totally weirded out by just the thought of being alone with you."

"You're here now. What changed that?" he asked.

"You," Memphis answered honestly. "I was in a lot of pain at the hospital so they doped me up pretty good. The Morphine had me drifting in and out. Sometimes I could barely open my eyes but the whole time…I, I could hear."

Randy looked away.

"You mean you heard me when I came to see you?"

He had meant every word of it but suddenly he felt very embarassed.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. Listen, you were a jerk. You were more than a jerk. You did some horrible things, things that seemed unforgivable at the time. But everybody deserves a second chance, I guess. People make mistakes. You seemed really genuine and concerned when you came to see me. It has been really hard for me to believe that you were really sorry or that you weren't up to something even more sinister. But you've backed off and you've apologized and since it looks like we're going to be working together for a while, I think we should put the past behind us."

"You mean that?" he looked right at her.

"Yeah. I didn't think I'd ever be here saying these things to you but then again I never thought you'd care enough to come to a hospital and check on me. People disappoint you but sometimes they surprise you too. I just don't want there to be drama or tension between us anymore."

"Me either."

"Good," she half smiled. "This doesn't mean we'll be instant BFFs or getting together for coffee anytime soon but uh…it's a start."

Randy sighed.

"All that stuff…usually that's not my way and all but I said it and I do mean it. I just wanted you to know that."

"Thanks and I also wanted to apologize for the way Punk treated you."

"It's cool."

"No, it's not. He shouldn't have gone off on you like that. I know it came from a good place and I know it's only because he cares about me and I love him to death for it but it wasn't right. But he was my first real friend in the WWE. We've been through a lot and he has seen me through a lot. Punk is a great guy and he gets very protective sometimes."

"Does he know you're here right now?"

She shook her head.

"Not at the moment, no, but I did tell him that I wanted to talk to you and hopefully come to some sort of truce."

"He must be thrilled about that one," Randy smirked.

Memphis chuckled.

"Less than but it's alright. He respects me and he respects my choices even if he doesn't understand or agree with them. I know there is still tension between you guys but just like I told him, I hope you both can be professional about it. No one is asking you to be buddies but the least you can do is restrain yourselves."

"Yeah. No problem."

"Thanks…"

"So," Randy began after a few awkward minutes of silence. "You in action tonight?"

"Out one more week, which sucks. Vince says I should take it easy. You know how that goes. Anyway, I'll be back on RAW next Monday. I can't wait. Once you get out there and do it, it's almost addicting. It's like I'm a match hog now and I want to be out there the whole two hours."

"When I was a little kid and I'd watch my dad go out there and perform, he used to say to me there was nothing like it in the world, no other feeling like walking down that ramp, climbing in that ring, being under all those lights and feeling the energy from the crowd."

"He's right."

Their eyes met and then they quickly looked away.

"Anyway…"

Memphis stood.

"Thanks for talking to me."

"Yeah, um, thanks for coming by."

She shot him a nervous smile and extended her hand.

"So we're cool?"

"We're cool," he shook it.

"Good."

He walked her to the front of the bus and opened the doors where they both saw John Cena raising his hand to knock on it. He didn't bother to try to hide his surprise at seeing Memphis and Randy together and civil.

"Wow," he faked coughed. "Didn't mean to interrupt."

"You weren't," Memphis assured him. "I was just leaving. See you guys later."

They watched her disappear from sight.

"What the mother fudgin' hell was that all about?"

Randy chuckled under his breath.

"Don't even ask, man. Let me grab my bags. I'll be right out."

John ignored him and followed him back on the bus.

"Memphis Kramer was on your bus. No yelling, nothing is destroyed, she's not upset and I don't see Phil two inches off your ass. What gives?"

"Nothing. She stopped by to talk."

"And?"

"And we did. She knows Miami was an accident and she knows I'm sorry about all the other stuff. We called a truce, nothing more, nothing less. Don't make it any bigger than it is."

"Okay," John made a face.

"What?" Randy turned to him.

John put his hands up defensively.

"Nothing."

"Yeah right. You've got a crazy ass look on your face, you're dying to say something, you're already nosy as hell and you fake coughed when Memphis was here."

"That was not a fake cough, man."

"Cena…"

"Nothing. Okay, all I'm saying is be careful."

"Yes Mom," Randy responded sarcastically.

"I'm serious. You and Memphis have history, your ass is skating on thin ice with Vince and the company as it is, she has a boyfriend who so happens to be a co-worker who absolutely hates yours guts, and not to mention she's hot and hooking up with hot chicks is your specialty. Just watch out, Ran. For real. Seeing the way she looked at you, the way you were looking at her and the way she walked off this bus…looks like nothing but trouble, if you ask me. Trouble."

"Well, no one asked you. Now come on. Time for work."

Randy gathered his belongings and followed his friend through the parking lot into the arena. John could be such a girl sometimes. Randy wasn't worried. He felt okay about what had just happened. In fact, he felt good. And the last thing on his mind was Phil Brooks. It was what it was and it didn't feel like trouble to Randy Orton. Not at all.


	24. Beware Of The Leopard

Memphis stirred and turned in her sleep. A few feet away on the flat screen television an old episode of I Love Lucy played loudly in the background. Her eyes fully opened and she sat up, glancing over at the clock before reaching over for the remote and turning down the volume. It was a little after midnight which meant that she must have dozed off. The WWE was between travels and instead of going back to Long Island, she had taken Phil up on his offer to accompany him back to his house located in a suburb right outside the city limits of Chicago. He had been excited to bring her back to his home but all had seemed to change in an instant the minute their flight had taken off. The couple had been making small talk and all had been well until the subject of Randy Orton had come up. Instantly Phil's whole demeanor had changed. Randy had seemed to have that effect on them, the both of them but Memphis' reaction had been oddly different and Phil couldn't quite figure out why until she explained everything to him. Before the show she had found him alone on his bus and they had talked, cleared the air so to speak. A truce had been drawn and Memphis was comfortable with that. Obviously her boyfriend wasn't.

They arrived back in Illinois in the early evening in time to enjoy dinner at a local restaurant in the city that Phil had chosen as the forum for his new girlfriend to meet some of his closest friends and even his brother. It had been nice, a fancy Japanese restaurant where the food was delicious. Being in Chicago made Memphis feel closer to Phil as he was slowly letting her get to know more about him and his world. They'd had a good time. Everyone was nice and had gotten along. The mood was light and the conversation plentiful but Phil seemed to be sullen and distracted. After a few hours he had driven them back to his place and dropped Memphis off before taking his brother home. He had said he would be right back. While waiting for him, a naughty thought overtook her. She lit some candles and took all her clothes off except for some of the Straight Edge arm bands he often wore to the ring. She wanted to surprise him when he returned home but a few minutes turned into an hour or so. Memphis had eventually taken the bands off and crawled beneath the cool sheets.

"Punk, is that you?"

He turned on the light and she winced as the brightness burned her eyes for a few seconds.

"What's with all the candles?" he frowned as he blew them out.

She made a face.

"They were for you. I was trying to be romantic and sexy but so much for that. You were gone forever and I ended up falling asleep. What took so long?" she casually asked.

He shrugged.

"I thought I was just gonna drop Mike off but he invited me in and we ended up talking for a while and I just lost track of time."

His explanation was reaonable enough but it raised a flag that he wasn't even looking her in the face.

"Are you sure that's it?"

"Yeah," he took his shirt off and fell into bed beside her. "What else would it be?"

Normally they laughed and joked, talked, watched TV together or made love. Instead, Phil turned his back.

"Punk…"

"Good night, Memphis."

"No," she stated emphatically.

"What?"

She leaned over and physically rolled him so that he was facing her.

"Dude, what is your problem?"

"I don't have a problem."

"Don't lie to me. You're the guy that speaks his mind, that makes no apologies for anything and now you're going to sit here and just avoid the issue? I know we're not gonna always get along and see eye to eye on everything but the least we could do is talk about it."

"Fine. Talk."

"Is this about Randy?"

Phil rolled his eyes.

"What about him?"

"You tell me. Punk…"

"That's not a subject I'm really interested in. I'm tired and I'd like to go to sleep without Randy Orton in bed with us, if you know what I mean. Way too creepy of a threesome."

He turned but she hit him with a pillow.

"I'm being serious. Let's talk about this."

"Okay, okay."

"I want to know why you're so pissed off."

"You want to know why I am so pissed off?"

"Yes. Please enlighten me."

"Fine. You're a smart woman and I care about you a lot. Things are going great for you at work now and I'm happy for you because you went through a hard time at first. I know it's a relief that everybody stopped being so shitty towards you but just because things are cool now, I don't think that's a reason to forget all the bad things that were done to you in the beginning."

"Forget? Are you serious right now? Listen, Punk, you went through it with me but let's not forget that I was the target. The insults, the humiliation, the tasteless ribs?"

"Exactly. It was horrible for you which makes it even more mind blowing that you're so quick and willing to forget then forgive the guy who masterminded it all."

She took a deep breath.

"So this is about Randy. You're upset because I went to see him,"she bit her lip. "I knew it. I knew this would happen, that you would react this way."

"It is what it is. Do what you want. It's your choice."

"Then why can't you respect it?"

He looked right at her.

"You really want to know why?"

"Yes. I asked you, didn't I?"

"Because I'm in love with you," he blurted out.

Memphis' eyes grew as big as saucers. That was an out of left field bombshell that she had not been expecting.

"What?"

"I love you and every day I have to see and work with the asshole that made you miserable for months, the one who nearly destroyed your career and it takes everything inside of me not to beat his ass into the ground. Now that he is full of apologies, all of a sudden you want to just erase every awful thing he ever did to you. That's not right, Memphis. It's not right and it's not smart."

"I think he is really sorry this time."

"How do you know? I mean, how do you really know it's not just another setup?"

"Because I heard him, okay? Look, I didn't tell you before but that day Randy came to see me in the hospital he had sat at my bedside and he talked to me. I was zonked out on the Morphine so it looked like I was sleeping but I could still hear him. He didn't know that. I felt like he was being very sincere and very genuine."

Phil just shook his head.

"I don't care what you say. He's still a bad guy."

"Maybe, maybe not. But people are capable of change. We're all human and we all make mistakes. I am not gonna make excuses for the guy. I don't know why he did what he did and I certainly don't think he is a saint or anything now but I just want the tension and bad blood gone between us. I guess he wants that too. We all have to work together, might as well be civil."

"And that's it?"

"Of course. Nothing more, nothing less. Promise."

Phil sighed.

"You're a good person. You have a tough exterior, Memphis but you're a big twinkie on the inside. That's part of what I like about you but I don't want that to get you in trouble, I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't."

"They don't call Randy Orton, The Viper, for nothing. That guy is a snake. He can't be trusted. Whatever he is saying, you can't just buy into it and this new and improved good guy image is just a crock of shit if you ask me. I know him too well and I've known him for a long time."

"I appreciate you looking out for me, I really do, Punk but it's okay. I'm not a child. I am a big girl and I promise you I don't need to be looked after. I can take of myself, you know that."

"I do know that but just be careful. Be smart. Remember, a leopard doesn't change his spots, he just camaflouges them."

"It's okay. I still know what I'm dealing with and who I'm dealing with."

"Good. It could be coming from some place real and genuine even though I doubt it. It could be the prelude for another setup or he could be trying to get you into bed."

"Oh please," Memphis laughed out loud.

"I'm serious."

"I know you are which makes it that more laughable. Come on, Punk. That's just silly. Personally, I am giving him the benefit of the doubt but yeah I recognize that I could be wrong. I don't think it is another setup and if it is, he is only going to end up screwing over himself and his own career. And as for that last part, I think sex with me is the last thing on Randy Orton's mind. Even if it wasn't, he has no chance in hell with me and we both know that. Besides," she grinned, crawling over to him and letting the sheet fall from her naked body. "You're the only man in that locker room that has a chance of getting me in bed. Ever."

She playfully nipped at his ear.

"I'm totally mad at you and you think you're gonna make it all better by being naked in my bed and kissing my sensitive spots."

"Oh yeah," she moved down to his neck. "Is it working?"

"Hell yeah," he wrapped his arms around her, letting his lips crash into hers as he laid her flat on the bed.

"Oh Punk," she giggled. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Love me or leave me," he shrugged.

Memphis got serious for a minute.

"What you said before…"

"Which part?"

"You know which part. You, you told me that you love me, that you're in love with me. Did you mean it? Is it true?"

He nodded.

"Of course it's true. You're an amazing woman. How could I not fall in love with you, Dollface? I never had a chance."

She smiled.

"You are the sweetest man, you know that."

"I do my best."

"I mean that. You look out for me. You take care of me. You're there when no one else is. You have my back and that's something I haven't had a lot of in my life. It's pretty nice."

"I'll always have your back. I'll always be here for you," he smoothed her hair. "You're special to me and I just want you to know that. I really do love you."

"What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"The gods must like you."

"I'm not kidding. I've been taking care of myself for so long that it's hard for me to let go and be vulnerable and let someone else take care of me. It's really hard for me."

"Then let me make it easy for you."

Their lips met and her eyes closed. The last thing she had been expecting or looking for was a boyfriend but Phil Brooks had managed to change all that. In fact, he had changed her life. He was a great guy and he really cared about her. To her he had always been an amazing friend and support system but the more he proved himself, the more she saw him in a different light. Maybe it was time to let down her defenses and be vulnerable. For so long she had been holding out and holding back. The hardest part was letting go. Maybe it was time.


	25. Strangers In The Night

Memphis groaned out loud as she checked the departure screen again. The flight to Cleveland was still delayed for another two hours. The plane had been scheduled to take off a little after seven in the evening but harsh winter weather had grounded most of the air travel. The show wasn't until the following morning but Memphis found herself starting to get nervous as more hours passed without reschedule times. She had made it as far as Washington D.C. and was expecting a connector straight to her destination in Ohio. It was a little after one in the morning and she was tired and cranky and ready to go after spending nearly eight hours inside Reagan International. A break in the snow had begun to allow for travel headed in the northeast and all flights headed south and southwest had remained on schedule. Many of the passengers delayed for northwest bound flights had accepted hotel vouchers so the usually busy terminals now looked like ghost towns. Sighing, Memphis found a Starbucks that was open inside the airport and set her carryon and laptop at a table. She was the only customer there and checked her messages once again.

_Tired of waiting for the plane. Rented a car & put some chains on the tires. That's how we roll in the midwest. Should be in Cleveland in a few hours._

Memphis couldn't help but smile. You had to love Phil Brooks. It had been a week since she had spent the break in Chicago with him. It had been nice. Their relationship had been growing by leaps and bounds and Memphis, always cautious when it came to matters of the heart, was taking her time but she had been surprised by how much Phil had let his guard down. His heart rested on his sleeved arms and he had really put himself out there on an emotional level. And it was all for her. She really respected that and the more time they spent together, the more she started to genuinely care for him. He was a great guy and she couldn't wait to see him again in Cleveland in a few hours.

"Yes ma'am, may I help you?"

"Sure," she looked over the memu. "Um, I'll have an Apple Brand muffin, a Garden Pesto salad, and an Orange Mango Vivanno Smoothie, please."

"Will that be all for you tonight?"

"Yes."

"Please hold for your total and sir, I will be right with you," the cashier motioned to someone standing behind her.

Memphis pulled out her wallet, searching for the twenty dollar bill she had withdrawn from the ATM just hours ago. She knew it had to be somewhere in that damned purse of hers.

"Look, I'm kind of in a hurry. Put hers on my tab because I need to order. Get me a Turkey and Swiss sandwich, a Greek Yogurt Honey Parfait, and a bottled Vanilla Frappuccino."

Memphis made a face as she instantly recongized the voice. She stopped and turned. Sure enough it was Randy Orton.

"Orton."

He was on his phone and looked shocked to see her. The conversation he had been engrossed in had precocupied his attention and standing behind Memphis who had pulled her hair up and was wearing a hat and coat, he hadn't recognized her.

"Memphis," he put the phone down. "Hey, um, I didn't know that was you."

"Sir, would you still like for me to put her items on your ticket?" the clerk asked.

Memphis kept fishing through her bag.

"No. Sorry. Um, I swear this money is in here somewhere. If not, I'll just use my card…"

"It's okay," Randy reached over her and handed the employee his American Express.

"You didn't have to do that…"

"I know."

"Thanks," she nodded.

"Yeah," he didn't bother to look up at her.

He continued texting as they waited quietly in line. Their goods were ready in no time and Memphis took hers over to the table where she had stashed her belongings.

"So do you know something I don't know?" she half grinned at him.

"What?"

"You said you were in a hurry. The next flight to Cleveland doesn't leave for a couple more hours."

He gave her a smirk.

"I just didn't feel like waiting."

Memphis laughed out loud as she sat down.

"Yeah. Sorry for the whole 90 second delay."

Randy had to chuckle at that one as well.

"Don't complain. You got a free meal out of the deal."

"That's a good point," she opened her salad. "Um, would you like to sit down?"

He had started to put his stuff at another nearby table. They were attemtping a conversation and they were the only ones around. What was the harm in sitting together?

"Yeah, uh…okay," he pulled up a chair.

In silence they spread out their food and drinks before digging in.

"I am starving," Memphis moaned between bites of salad. "These stupid weather delays suck."

"That they do but you'll get used to them. Happens all the time. Sometimes it's just easier to rent a car and try to make the drive. Less hassle."

Memphis nodded.

"So, um how have you been?" she asked.

"Good. You?"

"Good."

"How are the ribs?"

"Still a little sore but getting better. I referee tomorrow."

"That's cool. Do you know the match yet?"

"Not yet," she shook her head. "Punk will probably beat me to the arena anyway. I'll just ask him to find out in the pre production meeting."

"Pays to have boyfriends in high places, huh?" Randy joked as he took a bite of his sandwich.

"Ha ha."

"It was a joke. An innocent, harmless joke that has nothing to do with the fact that me and that guy can't stand each other."

"I'm sure…"

"Like he is cool with me and you being cool. Did you tell him yet?"

"I did actually."

"And?"

Memphis frowned.

"It's complicated."

"I bet."

"He's just looking out for me. I've forgiven you and I'm pretty much over everything that happened between us but it was a lot and you have to admit that. Punk doesn't want to see me hurt again."

Randy shrugged.

"He's looking out for his girl, I can understand that. Hell, I even respect it. But what I did to you is not what I did to him. That's between us and he should just leave it alone."

"True…but he does make some good points."

"Like?"

"I don't know. I mean, we had a good talk on your bus and I did hear all the stuff you said in the hospital. You didn't have to come see me and you didn't even know if I could hear you so I feel like you're being genuine. I don't think anything will happen again but I guess a part of me is bothered by why it all happened in the first place."

"What do you mean?"

"Why me?" she posed. "What did I do that made you hate me so much?"

Randy paused before looking her in the eye.

"I don't have a real answer for that, Memphis. I was an asshole. I've pretty much been an asshole my whole life, especially during my time in the WWE. I've been a bully. People usually listen to me and just do what I say. You were different. That first night, I was just in a bad mood when you bumped into me. It wasn't a big deal and I know I should have let it go but the fact that you stood up to me…I don't know. It's stupid looking back on it but it really pissed me off. From then on I decided that I didn't like you and it just got out of hand from there."

"It was just really hurtful. It's hard for me to say that to you now. Everything from the bet you placed that I would be gone in two months, to our argument on the plane, to all those mean and disgusting pranks, to that final night…"

"It was bad. Look, I'm not proud of what me and DiBiase did to you. At the time I was. My goal was to break you, make you quit. You didn't. You're a strong person. A lot of people couldn't have handled that. You deserve to be here and I'm really sorry you went through that, that I put you through it. It was messed up."

"It's just that in the hospital and the way you helped in the parking lot with those guys that night and on your bus and even now…you're like this nice, normal guy. It's almost a Jekyll and Hyde type thing. It's almost hard to believe you're that same person."

"I was on my way to the locker room at an arena a few weeks ago and on the way there, I had to pass the Diva's locker room. Some of the girls were just hanging around and when they saw me coming, they literally started scampering like roaches. And just the looks on their faces…fear, disgust, hate even. It was all directed at me and I realize that I deserve it. I've been a chauvenist and a sexist and a bully. I've been a dick to those girls and for no good reason. Add that to what I did to you, especially that last night and it's pretty bad. I guess I don't want to be that guy anymore. I hear what they say about me on the Dirt Sheets and I don't want to be the heel anymore, at least not in real life."

He was being as honest and open as he could be, as he'd ever been. The words tumbled out in a mixture of hesitation, emotion, and candor.

"People change and everybody deserves a second chance."

"Thanks. Because you didn't have to give me one."

"Would you have blamed me if I didn't?"

"No. And look I know I've said I'm sorry a hundred times but I feel like I need to explain about that whole hotel gym thing…"

Memphis' cheeks turned bright red with embarassment and she cringed. Those same intense blue eyes that were now boring a hole into her at a Starbucks table were the same beady eyes that had invaded her privacy and spied on her in the most intimate of moments.

"I really don't want to talk about that."

"I'm not a sicko or a creep or a Peeping Tom, I just wanted you to know that. And I didn't follow you guys there that night either. I couldn't sleep and wanted to work out and I saw."

"And you watched?" she raised one eyebrow.

Randy smirked.

"I watched. Not my finest moment but it was wrong and I'm really sorry. I wanted to humiliate you which is why I brought it up in front of everyone and like the second I did, I knew I had gone too far. It just hit me how bad that was, how out of line. I regretted it right away, all of it but it was too late. And Ted throwing the spit on you…it just…it was out of control. I didn't want to be a part of that, at least not anymore."

"Well thank you. It makes it easier for us to start over when you can sit here and be so honest and admit your mistakes."

"I'm trying."

"But you know what really bothered me most?"

"What's that?"

"That girl, the little pregnant girl, Hannah. That's really sad. Look, I know it's none of my business but she is scared to death. That has to be so hard. And however you feel about her, there is an innocent little baby that's going to be involved in all this and it just doesn't seem right."

"I know," he sighed. "That whole thing was my bad. I've said a lot of bad stuff about Hannah but the truth is, I don't really know her. That sucks. What I do know is that I'm not ready to be a daddy and I got so pissed at myself for even being in that situation. Let's just say my parents are less than thrilled that they may be having a grandchild from someone none of us really knows anything about. But I, um…I called her up. She's okay. The baby will be here in a couple of months and we'll take it from there."

"Wow," Memphis leaned back in her chair. "That was really big of you."

"I had to man up. It was the right thing to do."

"Are you scared?" she played with the straw in her Smoothie.

"Petrified," he chuckled. "But we'll see after the paternity test and take it from there. If the kid is mine, I'll step up and support it and I guess try to be a part of its life."

"Good for you, Randy."

He looked at her and smiled, a real smile, not a smirk.

"You called me Randy."

"That is your name."

"Yeah but you usually call me Orton. And you say it with like the meanest voice ever," he laughed.

"I do not."

"_Orton, I need to talk to you! What do you want, Orton? Orton, go to hell! Leave me alone, Orton" _he mocked making her laugh so hard she almost spit out her drink.

"Dude, my voice does not sound like that."

"Whatever," he said as he stood and began gathering both their trash. "You want to go wait at the terminal?"

"Sure," she grabbed her stuff.

Randy then walked back to the counter and ordered and paid cash for two small roasted coffees. He handed one to Memphis as they made their way through the airport. The gate was almost empty and the two took a seat on the floor. Memphis charged the battery of her laptop and began surfing the Internet as Randy toyed with his phone. A few minutes later, the pair looked up to see a family of four in front of them.

"Hi," the man said. "I know it's late and I'm real sorry to bother you but you're Randy Orton and we're huge wrestling fans. The kids love you. Is it possible for us to get an autograph and a picture?"

Memphis looked over at Randy. He had been traveling all day and probably wasn't in the best of moods. The last thing he wanted was an impromptu meet and greet but the people standing before them had no idea of that. She was hoping he'd at least be polite when he turned them down.

"No problem," he stood.

Randy signed autographs for all of them but Memphis was particularly impressed when he kneeled down to the level of the two children. The boy appeared to be about eight and the little girl was even younger, around three or so. He smiled at the kids and talked to them in a soft voice, bringing ear to ear grins to their sweet little faces.

"Guys, I'll take the pictures," Memphis volunteered.

The wife did a double take.

"Oh my God. You're the new female referee, aren't you?"

Memphis smiled.

"Guilty as charged."

"This is so exciting. Two WWE Superstars in one night, honey. Imagine that. Please, you get in the picture with us."

"Okay," Memphis conceded with a giggle as she and Randy tried to squeeze in the frame as the dad held the camera out and snapped several self portraits.

"Thank you so much," the man said as they prepared to leave. "This was so cool. The kids will never forget this. And to think, we were scared to even come up to you. All the sites on the Internet say you're a jerk to your fans and there was even some story about you two not getting along."

Randy and Memphis exchanged glances.

"Well, you can't believe everything you read, I guess."

They waved as the family ventured off and the two sat back down.

"45 more minutes," Randy sighed.

She stared at him with a grin.

"Wow."

'"What?"

"You really can be a nice person. I'm sure you didn't feel like it but you were really good with those fans."

"The kids were cute," he shrugged.

"I just never would have predicted this. If you had told me three months ago that it would be me and you like this here? I wouldn't have believed it."

"Or even a couple of weeks ago."

"What?"

Randy smirked again.

"I remember sitting on my bus and you distinctly saying that you and I were never going to be BFFs or get together for coffee soon," he motioned down to their cups.

She couldn't help but grin.

"Strange things happen."

"Yeah. I guess they do."

Randy Orton was complex and intense, hard to figure out and someone with a story that went way beyond the ring. Memphis Kramer was an enigma in her own right and two passing strangers in the night had shared a few hours and gotten to know each other, in the process finding out that they had more in common than they originally thought.

"Randy?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks. For the food and the coffee and the talk and just everything. It was nice."

He nodded. It was nice.


	26. Return To Me

Randy Orton's tour bus had pulled up to The Westin Crown Center hotel in Kansas City. He was a little more than 250 miles from his home on the lake in High Ridge, Missouri but due to the scheduling of the live events, he had been forced to stay in Kansas City. The plan would be to pull out early in the morning where he could relax within the comfort and privacy of his own four walls. He had enjoyed a nap in his luxury hotel suite and with just an hour or two before he had to be at the arena, he had just finished up at the gym. Rounding the corner, he wiped the sweat from his brow and stood waiting impatiently in front of the elevator. After what seemed like forever, it stopped on his floor and the doors pried open revealing a very familiar face.

"Randy?"

Randy stopped. At first he thought it was a fan but that soft, sweet, and distinct voice was way too recognizable to belong to a mere stranger. No, Randy Orton would know that voice anywhere.

"Sam?"

He looked up and found himself staring into the amazing set of eyes that belonged to his ex girlfriend, Samantha Speno. It was a surprise to see her and she looked beautiful in a fitted knee length, long sleeved purple dress. Her hair had been curled and her make up was perfect. She looked absolutely stunning.

"Hi. Oh my gosh. This…this is a shock. I, I didn't know the WWE was in town."

Randy couldn't stop staring. He had forgotten how pretty she was.

"Yeah, um, it's a house show," he cleared his throat.

"Oh," she nodded, uncomfortably shifting her small weight. "That, that's nice."

"Yeah…"

"So, um, I haven't seen you in a while. How are you? How have things been?"

"Pretty good."

Sam bit at her lip.

"I, uh, we haven't talked since you called me that night and you, you didn't sound good, Ran. I was really worried about you and…"

"It's fine," he dismissed things with a shrug.

"I know but the way you sounded…it really scared me. Anyway, you hung up on me. It's fine but…"

"Sorry about that," he mumbled.

"But you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," he looked right in her eyes. "You, um, you look really great, Sam."

She blushed.

"Thank you."

"You look really happy."

"I am," she tossed her hair back.

"What have you been up to?" he tried to make small talk. "What brings you to Kansas City?"

An instant smile came to her face.

"There's a fundraiser here at the hotel tonight. I am super excited. We're trying to fund a program that is converting an old run down gym in St. Louis. We have plans to fix it up and make it nice and we have a bunch of volunteers that are going to teach a bunch of inner city kids dance and gymnastics in after school programs."

Randy nodded.

"That's cool. I remember you've been talking about wanting to do something like that for a long time."

"It feels like the more worthy a cause is, the harder it is to get off the ground. We did get some state funding but it's not enough so we're pretty much relying on charitable donations so far but I think it's going to be okay. We have almost reached our goal."

"Good. Good for you. You know if you ever need anything…"

"Thanks," she looked away. "I appreciate it but I couldn't ask…"

"I'm offering."

"Thanks. Any gift will really help the kids and that's what it's all about."

"I know how important this is to you. If it's important to you, it's important to me."

Sam studied his face. She knew him well. During their relationship she had gotten to know Randy as much as he let anyone get to know him. He was dark and complex, a man layered in depth and mystery. But in addition to his faults, flaws, and troubles, there was a good person inside of him. She had tried her best to bring it out and at times had succeeded but there was always that something that reeled him back in. The relationship had been tumultuous at best. When it was good, it was beautiful. Randy could be a caring boyfriend, witty and charming, sweet and protective. The memories of them cuddled on the couch or cooking together and picking out wine for dinner made her smile fondly in remembrance. But then there was the other side. When things were bad, simply put they were awful. With the flip of a switch Randy could become someone else. He had a hair trigger temper and was capable of fits of rage, spewing deadly venom at anyone in his path. Those were the memories that made Sam shudder with fear and disdain.

One night when the ballet Swan Lake, Sam's favorite, had come to St. Louis, Randy had flown in early from his work travels and arranged for a private theatre showing for just the two of them. Afterwards, he had taken her out for a romantic, candlelit dinner, followed by a horse and carriage ride through the city. That was the night she had fallen in love with him. That was the night she had gone back to his home and allowed him to make love to her for the first time.

Then there was the time that she had flown out to Dallas to surprise him in the midst of a long road trip. She had gone up to his room and had stopped dead in her tracks when she heard moans coming from the other side of the door. The voice belonged to a strange woman, a woman who was calling out Samantha's boyfriend's name. Horror and hurt consumed her and as if on cue, the door to the suite opposite of Randy's opened and there was John Cena. He looked just as shocked as she did and quickly ushered her into his room. Sam had tearfully told John what she had heard. Within minutes he disappeared, obviously as Randy's wingman, he took on the role of performing damage control. There was a knock on the door and a breathless Randy was on the other side, full of excuses about being asleep. He had finally convinced her to come back across the hall with him. The stench of sex filled the room but Randy had managed to explain that away by saying he had missed her and had ordered an adult movie and had masturbated earlier that night. Her head told her they were nothing more than filthy lies but her heart allowed her to be taken in by his smooth talking and mesmerizing blue eyes.

Another time they had been walking through an airport in New York when a fan had approached them for a picture. Randy, already tired and in a bad mood, had declined and the man was not willing to take no for an answer. He began snapping away and an irate Randy had attacked him right there in front of everyone, angrily grabbing the camera and stomping it into a dozen crushed pieces before adding insult to injury and punching the guy square in the jaw. Someone had captured the incident on a cell phone video recorder and the footage had been leaked across the Internet. It had taken Randy nearly a year to settle the matter out of civil court and he had barely ecaped criminal charges. That was the moment when Sam had realized that no matter how true or immense her love for him was, that it simply wouldn't be enough. She would never be able to save Randy from Randy.

"You look good…relaxed."

Randy smirked.

"You worry too much. You always did. I'm fine, I already told you."

"We don't see each other or talk a lot like we used to but you're still an important part of my life, Randy. I think about you often and I just want everything to be okay. A lot of time I have to keep up with you through the Internet."

Randy rolled his eyes. The dirt sheets were always full of news both fact and fiction.

"What are they saying about me now?"

Sam shrugged.

"Same old, same old. I heard about you and that new female referee. Supoosedly you trashed her belongings and spit on her. Randy that is horrible, that is a new low."

"I didn't spit on her. DiBiase threw my dip bottle at her."

"Well that makes it all better," she said sarcastically.

"Her name is Memphis and we didn't exactly hit it off when we met."

"Ran…"

"Okay, I was a douche bag. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of but I stopped and I did apologize and now we're cool."

Sam shot him a skeptical look.

"Well, that's good to know."

"Anyway, I know you said you had your thing tonight. I have to leave for work but if you're sticking around, maybe we could get together afterwards. I could take you out, maybe have dinner or get a drink."

"Randy, I can't…"

"Just an hour of your time. Please. I, I miss you."

His voice grew low. It was hard for the Legend Killer to be vulnerable with anyone.

"Samantha, sweetheart, there you are. I was looking all over for you."

Both Randy and Sam looked up at the other person who had just joined them. Sam looked mortified while Randy's jaw visibly clenched. It was Dean McDonald, Sam's fiancee.

"Dean," she forced a smile as he placed a kiss on her cheek.

Dean and Randy were now face to face and for the first time, Randy's attention briefly focused on the large diamond that adnorned the ring finger on his ex's left hand.

"Is everything okay here?" the thin, wiry man adjusted his suit jacket.

"You remember Randy Orton, don't you?"

Dean nodded and politely extended his hand.

"Of course I do. Randy."

Breathing through his nose, a red faced Randy finally accepted the gesture with great reluctance.

"Dean," he acknowledged tersely.

"Randy is in town wrestling tonight and we ran into each other. I was just telling him about the event," she explained.

"Small world," Dean nervously glanced around. "Anyway, it's almost time, sweetheart. We should get going."

"Of course. I'll meet you in the banquet hall."

Dean nodded and walked ahead, glancing back to make sure she was okay.

"I, um, I have to get going…" Randy pressed the elevator button.

"Randy, I'm sorry."

"It's cool."

She knew him well enough to know that no matter what he said, he was upset.

"Randy…"

He roughly jerked away from her touch.

"I said it's cool, Sam," he repeated in a much firmer voice.

She swallowed hard, recognizing that look in his eyes.

"I, um, I guess I'll see you around. It…it was nice seeing you."

"You too," he didn't bother looking at her. "See you around."

The elevator opened and he disappeared into it, letting the doors shut as he kept his back to her. The minute the car started moving, he exhaled. A barrage of mixed emotion fluttered inside him. Seeing Sam again had been so unexpected. It reminded him of how great she was and how much he missed her. It was also a painful reminder of how he managed to screw up every good thing that came into his life. Now she was gone and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. Cursing out loud, Randy hauled off and let his closed fist pound into the wall, leaving a huge dent in its place. Adrenaline masked the pain but he didn't care. In a few hours he would walk out on that ramp to the adoration of thousands of loyal followers who thought he lived the dream life. But there was nothing perfect about his life. Randy was living a nightmare and it was all a product of his own doing.


	27. Penny For Your Thoughts

Memphis hummed to herself as she struggled to stuff her clothing and shoes into her suitcase. Kansas City had marked the end of another fun but exhausting road trip. Instead of flying back to Long Island that night, she had elected to stay in Missouri. The plan was for her and Punk to have a quiet and romantic night together, unwinding before each would respectively catch a plane home to Chicago and New York. There would be a brief two day break and then it would be back on the road. She had been able to leave the arena almost immediately but her boyfriend hadn't been so lucky. An emergency post production meeting had been called and he and the other commentators and announcers had been summoned. He had promised to be back at the hotel within the hour but the clock was ticking and there was still no sign of his return. Just as she folded the last of her belongings, her cell phone buzzed and she checked the incoming text message.

_Still tied up. Eat without me. Be back soon. Love ya._

Memphis checked the time. It was late and she was starving. It was no telling what time he would be back so she figured it best to grab a quick bite then wait for him inside their room. Not in the mood for pizza, Chinese or any other local take out, she ventured downstairs to see what was available. The hotel's star restaurant, Benton's Prime Steakhouse had already closed and it was only one hour to closing for the far more casual lounge located in The Brasserie. The bar was pleasantly empty so Memphis walked up to the bartender and smiled.

"Can I help you ma'am?"

Memphis briefly skimmed a menu.

"Gosh, I am so hungry. Can I please have a Bison Burger cooked medium well and a Cobb Salad and whatever you recommend on tap?"

"How about a Boulevard Pale Ale, brewed here in Kansas City?"

"Sounds great."

"Have a seat and your food will be right out," the handsome bartender winked.

In a minute she was sipping on her beer quietly waiting for her food. It wasn't until she glanced down at the end of the bar that she saw two massive and completely tattooed arms. In his right hand was a shot of something.

"Randy?" Memphis stood and scooted into the seat next to him.

He didn't even bother looking at her.

"What's up?" he asked flatly.

"Nothing much. I thought that was you. You're kind of hard to miss. Anyway, I was waiting for Punk to get back and I came down to get something to eat. How's it going?"

"It's going," he still stared staight ahead.

"You had an awesome match tonight."

"Thanks," his voice was still void of emotion.

"Tough crowd you are," Memphis joked. "Are you okay?"

"Look, I'm fine," he finally turned to her, jaw taunt and blue eyes icy. "What do you want?"

It was a glimpse of the old Randy Orton, the one who had tormented her. The sudden switch unnerved Memphis. Biting her lip, she knew it was best to just let him be.

"Sorry I bothered you. You look like you're having a bad night. I'll just leave you alone."

She stood and he cursed under his breath.

"Memphis, wait," he called after her.

She stopped.

"Randy…"

"Sorry I was a dick. You're right, I'm having a bad night but that's not your fault. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

She let out a breath. At least he had apologized and his facial expression had softened considerably. Memphis reclaimed the seat next to him.

"It's okay. We all have our bad days."

"I guess."

"Anything you want to talk about? I mean, I know we're not exactly close or anything but I am a good ear."

She smiled warmly at him and when he didn't react, she figured she had gone too far and it was no use.

"Another shot of Jack," he nodded at the bartender before sighing and briefly looking over at her. "I, um, I was supposed to go back home tonight. I live right outside of St. Louis but my goddamned bus broke down."

"That sucks. Can they fix it soon?"

"Not until tomorrow."

"Why don't you just rent a car and drive home? It's only a couple hours drive away, right?"

He shrugged.

"I could but I'm pretty much wasted right now."

He emphasized his comment by downing another shot.

"Okay, don't you think you want to slow down?"

"I already booked a suite upstairs."

"Oh okay. Still hangovers suck and I speak from experience on that one."

He ignored her.

"The hotel pissed me off. I tried to book a room on the seventh floor but there was nothing available and those assholes wouldn't bump someone for me," he grumbled.

"That wouldn't have been fair, especially if people were already in their rooms. Besides what is it about the seventh floor? Is that your lucky number or something? Do you have a favorite room here?"

"Nope," he shook his head.

"Then what is it?"

Randy took a swig of beer.

"My ex is staying here, room 706," he stated matter of factly. "I was trying to get the room next to her."

Memphis frowned.

"Is that a good thing? I mean, it sounds kind of weird, no offense."

"She's here with her new fiancee."

The bitter tone was not lost in his voice.

"Ouch. That's not good, huh?"

"He's a lawyer. A skinny, geeky, stiff loser tool. I hate fucking lawyers."

"Watch it," she ribbed him.

Randy smirked.

"Present company excluded, I guess."

"Well thank you. Anyway, care to elaborate more on this super creepy threesome? Do they even know you're here?"

"Yep. Ran into her earlier. She is here for a charity event. She is a dance and gymnastics instructor and she has been trying to start this program to teach the arts to underprivileged kids for years."

"Well that's a great cause. Sounds like a wonderful woman. What happened?"

"I ran into her and we talked. And then he showed up and I left and that's pretty much it."

"Yikes. Well, you seem kind of upset. I'm sorry. Break ups are tough, especially if they're bad."

"She left me," he blurted out.

Memphis played with her frosted beer glass.

"Why?" she treaded carefully.

It was still surreal having ultra personal interactions with the man who at one time a short period ago had been her nemesis. Still she now felt oddly comfortable in his presence and there was something about him that intrigued her and vice versa.

"She says I cheated."

"Did you?"

"Yeah," he replied honestly. "And she said I had a temper and that I had too much going on and wasn't ready for a mature relationship, as she put it."

"Well considering what you've told me and what I do know about you, at the risk of pissing you off, wouldn't you say that she is at least a little bit right?"

"I guess," he shifted on the stool. "It…it was just weird seeing her again."

"Seeing her or seeing her with someone else?"

"Both."

"Do you still have feelings for her?"

"I don't know," Randy sighed. "Honestly? I don't think about her that much anymore. We have talked some since we broke up and most of the time I just end up being more of an asshole to her. I just block it out like it doesn't matter but seeing her again…it just kind of hit me."

He was looking straight ahead but still he was opening up. The words describing his innermost feelings poured out as the hard liquor poured in.

"Well it sounds like you really care about this person. Unfortunately regret is a part of life. We have to live with that and regret sometimes is about the things we've said or done and sometimes the things we haven't said or done. I don't know what happened between you two and its really none of my business but you purposely trying to book a room next to her and her fiancee probably isn't the best way to make amends. I mean, what would she say about that?"

"She wouldn't like it."

"Then why would you try to do it on purpose?"

Randy shrugged again.

"To get a dig at her."

"Randy, come on. That isn't cool. That's really immature in fact."

"I don't care. Honestly, I don't care how Sam feels right now. If she's bothered, so what? And she's really gonna flip tomorrow."

"What happens tomorrow? Oh gosh, what did you do?"

"I wrote a check to fund her little project. Twenty grand was the exact number needed and I made it happen."

"Holy shit," Memphis spit her beer out. "Dude, that is a lot of cash. I mean, at least it was for a good cause."

"Whatever. It'll make her feel like shit. She'll be uncomfortable and that pussy she is about to marry will probably blow a gasket."

Just the thought brought a sinister grin to Randy's lips.

"So you did a good thing for a bad reason?"

"You could say that. If that's how you want to think about it."

"It doesn't matter what I think. You're the one that has to live with it. But it might make you feel good for the moment but in the end what does it really do? It won't change things between you and Sam, is that her name?"

"Oh well. Sam can do whatever the fuck she wants."

"But why hurt her if you care about her so much? I don't understand."

"It is what it is. She gets her little charity project funded but every single time she walks through those doors she'll have to think of me. I really loved that girl. She doesn't believe it."

"You're just hurt," Memphis said softly. "Mad and hurt. I get it."

Randy chuckled.

"Don't get all sentimental on me. I'm not that guy."

"You can be. There is a good guy, a sensitive and sentimental guy lurking around inside The Viper."

"Being soft with people is how you get burned."

"I can dig that. I don't have the greatest relationship track record. Punk is probably the most stable thing I have going on with a guy, probably ever."

Randy laughed out loud.

"Good old CM Punk. I don't know what you see in that guy. He's such a douche bag."

"You don't know him, not like I do. He is intelligent and kind and funny. He doesn't always show that side to people but I gave him a chance and he gave me one."

"To each his own, I guess but for the record, you can do better."

"And so can you. I'm not talking about Sam either. I'm talking about you can do better by being a better guy like I've seen you try to be."

"I'll be just fine."

He was as stubborn as he was complex.

"Look, I'm no psychologist and I'm damned sure not in the position to give advice. God knows I'm not perfect. You and Sam are over and it blows and it sounds like you both hurt each other and now you've moved on. It was painful and unexpected running into her and you've had all night to dwell on it on top of your bus breaking down. You pulled a couple of prick moves but it's done now, right? And now you're sitting in a hotel bar drinking your troubles away?"

"What else is there to do in this godforsaken town?"

Memphis smiled.

"I've buried my sorrows in a few bottles a time or two. I'm not judging."

"You want a shot of Jack?"

"Jack and I are not friends."

"It'll put hair on your chest."

"My chest is just fine, thank you very much."

"Two more shots for me," Randy summoned the bartender. "And one for the lady."

The bartender returned with the shots and Memphis' food.

"You're a bad influence, Orton but I'll tell you what. This burger is absolutely huge. Split it with me and I'll do a shot with you. You probably need some food in your stomach to go with all that alcohol just swimming around in there."

They cut the burger in half and took a bite. Memphis giggled as some of the sauce dribbled on his chin. She handed him a napkin and he wiped it away before they clinked shot glasses.

"How about a toast?"

"To lonely hearts?"

"And bitch ass lawyers."

"Hey!"

"Present company excluded, I said," he grinned. "Relax."

They took their shots and smiled, continuing their talk about lighter subjects. Pretty soon it was just them and the bartender as the minutes ticked away. He allowed the two WWE celebrities to take their time and the pair was oblivious to the world around them, including the fact that a stone faced Phil Brooks was watching from the lounge entrance.


	28. Two Of A Kind

"And then John got so drunk he just jumped in the pool," Melina Perez burst out laughing.

The WWE's RAW brand had just finished a house show in Salisbury, Maryland and afterwards, Memphis had been invited out to a nearby bar and grill to have a late dinner with some of the Divas. Melina, Maryse Ouellette, Victoria "Alicia Fox" Crawford, and Nattie Neidhart had come out and Memphis had been excited to share a little girl time with her peers. She had remembered the cold and lonely days filled with isolation when she had first come to the company. Things had changed considerably and now she felt like one of the gang. The women were nice and a lot of fun to hang out with and above all, supportive. Memphis had lacked that friendship and connection in her real life as well so it was kind of nice. After their meal, they had ordered a few rounds of drinks.

"Tell me he kept his clothes on," Maryse, giggled in her thick accent as she raised an eyebrow as she stirred another Martini.

"Girl, of course he did," Victoria chimed in. "Melina would have killed his ass if he had gotten naked."

"What can I say? That's my man. Don't need any desperate little hussies out there getting any ideas once they take a look at my baby's goods…and trust me, it only gets better once you get past the abs," the Latina beauty licked her lips.

The girls already giddy and now slightly tipsy laughed out loud again. It had been a great way to unwind after a long night.

"Ladies, it has been awesome and thank you so much for the invite but I am tired and Punk is waiting for me. I better call it a night," Memphis smiled.

She paid her portion of the tab and left a generous tip, walking outside to hail a cab back to the hotel. Nattie volunteered to ride with her as she was anxious to get back to her own boyfriend TJ "Tyson Kidd" Wilson. The women enjoyed friendly chatter during the short ride and promised to get together for shopping in the next city. Memphis was in a great mood as she rode the elevator to the third floor. Using her key card, she opened the door and slipped in the room, hoping her man wasn't already asleep. Sure enough Punk was draped in a towel and his skin and dark hair was still damp from his recent shower. He was sitting at the desk messing around on his laptop.

"Hey," he didn't bother looking up.

"Hey," she grinned, placing a kiss on his forehead before kicking off her shoes and collapsing on their bed. "What are you doing?"

"Fucking around on Twitter," he took a sip of Diet Pepsi. "How was your night?"

"Wonderful," she smiled. "The girls are great. I'm glad everything is cool now. It's kind of nice to have that relationship with the people I work with."

"Yeah…"

"We stayed out later than we meant to. I probably should have texted you. Anyway, I'm beat. I'm gonna head to bed. We're leaving for Jersey after check-out, right?"

"Yep."

Memphis playfully rolled her eyes.

"You really seem to be in to that computer. Tortuing your followers with your dry and over sarcastic sense of humor and making fun of them for asking for retweets for their birthdays all of a sudden trumps hanging out with your girlfriend. What's up with that?"

Phil shrugged.

"These silly people practically beg for it and I like to be a dick. It's basically a win win situation."

She smiled as she stood and slowly unbuttoned and removed her jacket. She loosened the top few buttons on her blouse as she sauntered over to him and gently turned his seat away from the desk. Memphis straddled him, facing him, placing wet kisses on his neck.

"I missed you," she purred between nips. "Did you miss me too?"

"Maybe," he played hard ball.

She grinned as she felt his manhood coming to life through the terrycloth material of the hotel issued towel.

"Mmmm, certainly feels like you missed me."

She leaned back and removed her top, leaving her in jeans and a just a lacy black bra. Smirking mischeviously, she grabbed her boyfriend's hands and placed both palms on her breasts. He reciprocated by squeezing them, rolling the sensitive nippeles with his thumb. She moaned and tossed her head back, loving the feeling that he was giving her, knowing that more pleasure was on the way. Pulling his face close, she snaked her tongue in his mouth with urgency, wanting to feel and taste all of him.

"Memphis," he pulled away after a few seconds.

She gave him a confused look.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

He chuckled but she could tell he did not find the situation funny. Neither did she. He used his arm to wipe his mouth.

"I, um, I'm gonna get dressed for bed," he stood.

Stunned, she followed him over to where their luggage had been placed.

"Punk, what was that?"

"What was what?" he asked casually.

"Um, let's see we were in the middle of making out and things were about to get hot and heavy and you just totally blew me off. What gives?"

"I'm not in the mood anymore," he shrugged.

"What? Why?"

He walked over to the sink and began trimming his beard. Memphis followed.

"Some men find it attractive when their women go out and tie on a few. Think it makes them look sexy," he said before turning to face her. "I think it just makes them look drunk."

"What are you saying?" she narrowed her eyebrows. "Do you think I'm wasted?"

"I can taste it on you," he replied.

"Well, then you could have told me to brush my teeth. Your reaction kind of hurt my feelings."

"Not my problem."

Phil Brooks was known for his sarcasm and dry wit. Sometimes it was hard to tell if he was joking or not and Memphis searched for a hint of a smile but found none.

"Are you being serious right now?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, I am."

She shook her head in disbelief.

"I cannot believe you just said that to me."

"Dollface, you should know by now that I don't hold my tongue for anyone."

"And I don't expect you to but it would be nice if you could show some common courtesy to your girlfriend."

Something had been different about Phil ever since they had left Missouri the week before. Memphis couldn't put her finger on it but there was definietly a change of some sort. He wasn't being distant, just different. Still it bothered her.

"Courtesy, huh?"

She was tired of the fact that he was not looking her so she pulled his arm so that they were finally eye to eye.

"Look at me. Talk to me."

"You could have caused me to cut my throat…or worse, mess up my beard."

"Punk, I'm not joking right now."

He sighed.

"You've been going out a lot…"

"Is that what this is about?"

"Let me finish. I don't mind that. You seem happier and I want you to be happy. I think it's a good thing you have friends now or whatever but the whole drinking all the time…I'm not down with that and you know that. It's not me and I don't push my beliefs on other people but if we're gonna be in a serious relationship, I don't know how comfortable I am with my girl going out and being sloshed all the time."

"Punk, look at me. I am not drunk. I had two cocktails and a shot with the girls and I'm fine. I probably shouldn't be behind the wheel right now but that's why we cabbed it there. But I'm okay."

"Alright."

"Obviously it's not. You can't just say the things you said and expect me to just let it go. I don't like being accused of things I didn't do and you're making out like I'm some lush who goes out and gets bombed every chance she gets and we both know that's not true."

"That's not what I said. Don't put words in my mouth."

"Well, do you want to clarify what you mean? Because I would love to know."

He looked her in the eye.

"You know how I feel about you, Memphis. I care about you a lot. Whatever this is we have…I really dig it. But some of the things you've been doing lately are making me have doubts."

"Doubts, huh?"

"Yeah."

"And just what have I been doing that is so bad?"

"I didn't say it was bad or wrong, it just differs from the things that I do and the things that I want."

"Like?" she folded her bare arms.

"Like the people you've been hanging out with."

"Oh so now you all of a sudden have something against Melina and Nattie and Victoria and Maryse?"

"No. I don't even really know those broads."

"Then what are you talking about or should I ask who?"

"Memphis…"

"Is this about Randy Orton? Because sometimes I feel like you're still weirded out by the fact that I forgave him. I know you don't like him and that's fine. That's between you guys and I don't care about that. What I do care about is you and me and how things are between us. So I have a few drinks sometimes and I squashed a beef with some guy at work to keep the peace. You act like Randy and I hang out all the time and we're best friends."

"You two seem to be pretty chummy lately and I'll be honest with you. I don't like it."

"Define chummy. Randy and I are cool and that's where it ends. We don't hang out, we don't have a personal relationship and even if we did, I wouldn't see the harm in it considering that you and I are together and we have trust or least I thought we did."

"Trust, huh? Then why didn't you tell me about that night in the airport?"

"What?"

"The night the storms canceled all the flights and you were stuck in D.C."

"I…how did you know about that?"

"The pictures are all over the Internet. That's what fans do, Memphis. They beg you for photos then they post them all over the web right before they sell them for ten bucks on Ebay."

"Okay. Randy Orton and I were stuck in an airport, we ended up at a Starbucks together, we talked like civilized human beings then we waited at the same gate together. Some fans recognized us and yes we took pictures. I didn't tell you because it wasn't a big deal and honestly I forgot about it."

"Did you forget about the bar in Kansas City?"

Memphis bit her lip.

"What are you spying on me now?"

"No. I thought you might have grabbed a bite to eat in the hotel so I went looking for you after my meeting and I saw you with him."

"Why didn't you come up to us?"

"Didn't want to interrupt."

"Oh for fuck's sake. What is that supposed to mean? It wasn't a date. We weren't hiding. I went to get food and he was already there and we ended up talking and had some drinks. Now you sit here and throw trust in my face, that's a two way street. I care about you so much and you're an awesome guy and we have a great relationship but I don't want to be with a guy who is going to get jealous and overreact every time I talk to another guy. That's not fair."

"You think I'm overreacting?"

"Yeah, I do."

"You don't know me," he said as he washed, dried his face and walked away.

"What?" Memphis chased after him.

"The drinking, you newfound friendship with Randal? It creates doubt for me, Memphis. Doubt fucks everything. I thought we had something. I want us to have something but doubt will make that foundation crumble."

His tone was simple and direct and it stung her feelings as much as she hated to admit it.

"I'm with you, Punk. I want to be with you. Randy has nothing to do with us and you have to trust that. You have to know that this is all a misunderstanding. I would never cheat on you or do something behind your back. I don't want you to doubt me and it hurts me that you do."

"Yeah? Well, you're not the only one that has a hard time trusting people."

"Talk to me," she whispered.

"The whole thing with Orton…it just drives me crazy. I know the kind of guy he is. I was in a serious relationship with Maria Kanellis. Things didn't work out, we ended it, it sucked, we both got over it. But I really cared about her and your bud, Randal ended up sleeping with her right under my nose. He was drunk, she was too but she caught feelings for him and we all know that he only cares about himself. We were broken up and he did it just to use her and get at me and at the same time get what he wanted because that's how he treats people. The bastard doesn't give a hot fuck."

"I had no idea," Memphis swallowed hard.

"And if you think I take the Straight Edge thing too far, that's just me. My dad was an alcoholic, Memphis. He didn't hit me or my brother, he didn't beat up on my mom. It's nothing like that but I had a childhood witnessing stupid, ridiculous bullshit along with my mother popping prescription pills all the time. I started hanging out with an older crowd and uh, they turned out to be just as stupid and ridiculous sometimes. It taught me an important lesson earlier on. I'm not about the partying and the drinking. I don't think getting wasted until you black out or waking up next to people you don't remember going to bed with is fun."

She could hear the emotion in his voice and suddenly it all made sense. He was really bothered but at least he was being honest with her.

"Punk, I'm sorry. I, I didn't know about your parents and I do respect your lifestyle and your choices. The whole Randy thing? I didn't know he slept with Maria. Hearing it doesn't surprise me but people do change. People don't always give you the benefit of the doubt just like they don't give it to him…"

"Don't talk to me about change and Randy Orton and don't you dare compre me to him. That's the same prick that tormented you for months. That's the tool that used Maria. I am nothing like him and I never will be. I don't have dirty, unprotected sex with money grubbing skanks who eventually file paternity suits against me either. I respect you, Memphis and I'm in love with you. I guess that means me sucking up my pride and accepting the decisions you make even if I don't always agree with them or understand them. That's going to be hard for me to get used to."

With that, he walked away and begin straightening up his bags. Memphis walked up behind him, sliding her arms up and down his bare arms as she placed kisses on his back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered over and over again. "I'm so sorry."

Phil closed his eyes and tried not to react but he eventually turned and she fell into his open arms.

"Do you love me?" he cupped her face and looked into her eyes.

"Punk…"

"Do you love me?" he repeated.

She slowly nodded.

"Yes," she answered softly.

He pulled her in and she buried her face into his chest. He was a good man and she cared about him and he obviously cared about her. They had something special that she cherished and did not want to lose. Phil Brooks was a complex man, tough but sensitive, strong but scared, flawed but beautiful. And he was a man struggling to live in the present and live for the future despite the many demons that haunted him from the past. Much like, in fact just like Randy Orton.


	29. When Opportunity Knocks

Memphis grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat that was starting to glisten from her brow. She had just finished offciating a match between Adam "Edge" Copeland and Mike "The Miz" Mizanin. It had been a grand contest showing off the best of what the WWE had to offer featuring a seasoned veteran against hungry new blood. The spots had been perfectly planned and executed, making the match exciting and most importantly the fans had loved it. Edge was the classic face and The Miz was the traditional heel and he had played the role perfectly sneering at the female referee who refused to take his crap. She was tough and she stood up for herself and the crowd loved her for it. When the Miz's onscreen stooge, Alex Riley, played by FCW alum, Kevin Kiley, intefered, Memphis called for an immediate disqualification and as the two men came after her, Edge came to her rescue. Miz and Riley ran up the ramp like scalded dogs, as legendary commentator, Jim "JR" Ross loved to say. The blonde warrior gave her a hug and they stood grinning as Edge's music blared in the background. For Memphis it was surreal. Before joining the WWE, she had been a huge fan. She had watched Edge for years, loving it when he was in a team with Jason "Christian" Reso. How fitting and wonderful it was that now she stood in a ring alongside the men and women she had admired on television for years.

Standing in the female locker room, she washed her face, carefully removing her make up. She pinned her hair up and reached for a towel before finding a change of clothes. After her shower, she would be meeting up with Phil Brooks so they could drive to the next city. After their talk in Maryland, it had seemed to bring about a new understanding in the relationship that had made them closer. He was a good guy and she truly cared about him and Memphis knew the feeling was mutual. Standing in the middle of the squared circle, she couldn't help but grin as she felt the sexy smirk of RAW's most sarcastic commentator staring at her. He was her biggest fan and for that she felt lucky. Smiling in the mirror, Memphis unbuttoned her shirt as there was a soft knock at the door, then it opened. An attractive blonde with a friendly smile who Memphis had never seen before entered the room.

"Hi there. Can I help you?" the referee asked.

The woman extended her hand.

"Hello Memphis. We haven't met but it is an honor to get down here and finally talk face to face. My name is Michelle Wilson, you may have heard of me. I am the new Chief Marketing Officer for World Wrestling Entertainment. I have been spending a lot of time at the Corporate offices in Stamford but I wanted to get the chance to hit the road and meet some of the talent."

Memphis relaxed a little when she saw the official WWE badge. She politely shook the woman's hand.

"So nice to meet you, Michelle. Thanks for coming."

"I just saw your match. You were wonderful out there."

"Thank you."

"Is now a bad time? I realize you probably want to hit the showers but I was just making rounds and I wanted to speak with you about something. It won't take long, I promise."

"Sure. What is it? Is everything okay?"

"Everything is great. Before I get started, let me tell you a little bit about my role in the company. First of all, I work very closely with Mr. McMahon and of course John Laurinaitis, who as you know is the head of Talent Relations. Basically I oversee WWE's global marketing. I also do a lot of work with the pay per views, advertising, promotions, research, creative services, and all public and government relations. I previously worked as the VP of Marketing so there is a lot that goes into working with various members of the media."

"Sounds very interesting and very busy."

"Oh that it is," Michelle smiled. "The popularity of the brand has exploded in recent years but I don't need to explain that to you. The WWE is everywhere and the Superstars and Divas have really made their way into the pop culture mainstream."

"That's a good thing."

"That's a great thing. I have had the pleasure of negotiating several deals that featured our talent on late night talks shows as well as appearing in several non wrestling related magainzes. It increases our marketability when we get faces and stories out into the general public and build interest with those who normally don't watch our programming."

"Of course."

"As you know, your role in WWE has created quite the interest. Female referees have been virtually unheard of until now. It's new and it's different. You're also very beautiful and sexy. Memphis, you are great at what you do. The fans love you. As more and more comes out about you, including the fact that you're an attorney, the more interested people become and they really want to know just who is this Memphis Kramer person behind the stripes?"

Memphis blushed a little.

"That's kind of weird to think that, to hear you say that. Michelle, all I ever wanted to do was work for the WWE. I love wrestling. I love what I do. Every time Howard Finkel or Justin Roberts introduce me and I hear my name, it gives me chills. The travel, the lights, the fame, the fans…it's surreal. Wonderful but surreal. Because I am such a fan, I look at all the talent I watched and admired on TV for so long and I remember just wanting to know everything about them. The fact that people feel that way about me…it's hard to believe, you know? It takes getting used to. I'm just me, I'm just this normal person with a really abnormal job so it's kind of strange but in a good way that people want to get to know me."

"They do. Our research shows your name trends after every television Broadcast on Twitter and in Yahoo searches."

"Wow! I didn't know that. Really?"

"Really. Our offices are flooded with questions about you and there is a lot of Internet attention, including a couple of fan sites and Tumblr accounts created in your honor."

"Very flattering. I'm absolutely blown away."

"Wait until you hear this."

"What?"

"My assistant received a call from the editor in chief of FHM magazine, Colin Kennedy. Are you familiar with that publication?"

Memphis scratched her head.

"Yeah, I've heard of them. They are sort of like Maxim, right?"

"Correct. FHM has feautured a lot of prominent Hollywood celebrities like Kim Kardashian, Hayden Panettiere, Audrina Partidge…well, they have recently selected you as one of the top ten 100 sexiest women in sports."

"Are you serious?"

"Very. They would like to do a cover feature on you complete with a pictorial and in depth interview. The deal pays you 75 grand and it is international exposure. The publication can of course be a little risque at times but I assure you if you choose to do this, you will have full creative control. We want you to be sexy and represent the brand well but at the same time be comfortable. What do you say?"

Memphis was overwhelmed and at a temporary loss for words.

"Michelle…I, I don't know what to say."

"Pretty exciting, huh?" the older woman grinned.

Memphis nodded.

"Excited and flattering and shocking and amazing and wonderful all at the same time. I can't believe it."

"Well believe it, beautiful. Welcome to your new world."

"Why me?" she asked softly.

"Excuse me?"

"The WWE is full of gorgeous women. Melina, Maryse, Nattie, Layla, Michelle. Why me? They are sexy and beautiful and in shape and they have longevity with the company. They are way more known than I am. Why would FHM pick me of all people?"

Michelle shrugged.

"Get used to it. You're in the big leagues now, honey. All those things you said about those women, you peers, is very true but guess what? You belong right up there in those rankings, Memphis. You're just as beautiful and sexy and popular. Not to mention, as long as the WWE has been around, you are the first female referee. And it is not a gimmick or a novelty. You are proving to have a lot of longevity in this business. Your role here is different from that of any other woman and that makes you a pioneer. You have no idea how many doors you've just opened up for other females trying to break in this business."

"Wow…" she stood around and began to pace.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just…I don't know. That is a lot of money, too, by the way. 75 grand? I mean, is this Kennedy guy sure? He might get a look under the stripes and want his money back," she quipped.

"Nonsense," Michelle smiled. "I think he will be very happy. Now there is no pressure. Please be assured that we in Stamford fully support whatever decision you decide to make. But this could be a tremendous opportunity for both you and the WWE. Please think about it and get back to me by the end of the week."

With that, Michelle handed her a card. Memphis shook her hand again and thanked her.

"I appreciate you stopping by, Michelle. I will for sure be in touch no later than Friday."

Holding the business card in her hand, Memphis collapsed on the hard locker room bench and sighed. She sat for a few minutes pondering, just trying to process it all. Another knock at the door snapped her back into reality.

"Hey Dollface, you in there?"

She smiled as she stood and walked to the door.

"Punk," she threw her arms around him.

He hugged her back, frowning when he noticed she was still in her officiant uniform.

"Was just coming to check on you. No rush but I thought you'd be done by now. I'm ready to get on the road and I'm kind of hungry," he rubbed his stomach for emphasis. "I was waiting out by the back entrance but you never came. Just making sure you didn't drown in the shower or get swallowed up by the toilet."

"No silly," she laughed out loud. "Sorry I took so long. I got tied up. Michelle Wilson from Corporate was just here."

"Yeah. I heard some brass was coming in tonight."

"She was really nice. She, um…she wanted to talk to me about marketing opportunities and some stuff that has come up for me."

"That's cool."

"Yeah…anyway, I'm gonna hit the showers. I won't take long, I promise. We'll eat and get on the road and uh…when we do, there is something I want to talk to you about."

He raised his eyebrow.

"Everything okay?"

Memphis grinned.

"Everything is great, super in fact. Anyway, I'll tell you all about it in the car when we're driving. I'll meet you out in the parking lot by the rental car in 20. Is that cool?"

"Sounds good," he leaned in and gave her a quick kiss.

Memphis closed the door and quickly undressed. She turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower, lathering her hair and body. Only hot chicks graced the pages of magazines like Maxim and FHM. Memphis had never seen herself as one of _those _women. And now apparently she was. The offer was thrilling and exciting and one she was seriously considering. It was just another perk, just another extra when it came to being employed by the world's greatest sports entertainment entity. Smiling, she let the water run all over her body. Life kept getting better and better. The opportunity of a lifetime had just presented yet another opportunity and everyone knew when opportunity knocked, you had to open the door.


	30. Conflict Of Interest

Phil Brooks turned and winced, yawning before cursing out loud as the bright morning sun shined directly in his eyes. He sat up, bringing the covers over the lower part of his naked form. Looking around, he let his eyes take in the scenery before him. He was used to waking up in strange places…that was part of the daily grind of his job. Most of the hotels were nice but none were as personalized as this bedroom. It was black and red with marble dressers and a beautiful crimson canopy that matched the elegant drapes. The place was adorned with plants and art work. More importantly was that smell. That distinct feminine smell mixed with perfume. No, that didn't come with the average hotel room but a smile came across Phil's face when he remembered where he was. He was in Long Island. New York wasn't exactly a favorite place of his but it did happen to be where his girlfriend resided. After a long and grueling road trip, they often parted ways their two or three days off and went back to their spearate lives, hers being in the Northeast and his being the Midwest in the form of Chicago. He had invited her several times and she had accepted to stay with him in Illinois but never once had she brought up the notion that he come stay with her. It had bothered him but he had kept mum about it. Out of the blue one day, she had suggested it and he had readily accepted.

Memphis Kramer was intriguing. In that way, she reminded him of his ex, Diva Maria Kanellis. Pretty girls came a dime a dozen in the WWE and after five minutes, you knew their whole generic life story. Most of the wrestlers fell hard for them. Not Phil. It took more than a beautiful face and a nice rack to get his attention. He liked brains behind the beauty. He liked someone with a little mystery about them. And Memphis had lots of beauty, lots of brains, and plenty of mystery. He turned over and patted the empty space next to him. The room was quiet and the door to the master bathroom was open so he knew she was not in there. Reaching haphazardly for the jeans he had pulled off the night before, Phil slipped them on sans underwear and headed to explore throughout the small house searching for his girlfriend. The unmistakable sound of panting and heavy breating immediately garnered his attention. It was coming from the small island that separated the living room area and kitchen. Upon further investigation, Phil raised an eyebrow. She had taken a seat on the island before leaning back, securely hooking her legs over the side. With sweat glistening from her body and a look of fierce determination in her eye, she knocked out sit up after sit up, the muscles in her toned abdomen crunching with every movement. Hair pulled back, no makeup on, and dressed in workout pants and a sports bra, she looked as sexy as ever, though he found the scene quite amusing. He watched in silence as she finsihed at the count of 200.

"When do we leave for Russia?"

"Punk!" she put her hand over heart. "Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry," he shrugged.

She sat up and reached for her water bottle, taking a refreshing swig.

"And what's this business about Russia?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to know when you're fighting Drago and all."

It took her a minute to get his joke and when she did, she smiled and swatted at him with her towel.

"Ha ha, wise ass. Very funny."

He marched over and placed a kiss on her lips that she returned.

"I woke up and you weren't there."

"Aw, is that your way of telling me that you missed me?"

"What can I say? I kind of got used to waking up with my shoulder all numb and tingly and a huge imprint of your head…"

"My head is not huge," she giggled, kissing him again. "Sorry babe. I had to work out."

"I see."

"I was actually gonna go for a run. Want to join me?"

"Not really."

"Oh yeah. Your hip, I almost forgot."

"That too," he opened the refigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice that he proceeded to drink straight from. "But even if I wasn't a crip, I still wouldn't want to go."

Memphis pretended to pout.

"First of all, a big boo and a hiss to you for being lazy. And second of all, I cannot believe you just drank from my carton of juice, you savage. That is disgusting."

Phil shot her a bewildered look.

"I don't see what the big deal is. Last night my penis was in your mouth and your vagina was in mine, at the same time I might add…"

A wave of scarlet embarrassment washed over her face.

"Don't be vulgar."

"I'm not. I was just pointing out a true statement. It doesn't get any more intimate than that. So I hardly think that a little backwash in the OJ compares to that."

"Okay, okay, I get it," she cut him off.

He pulled her close again.

"And speaking of the whole penis and vagina thing," he playfully raised his eyebrows. "How's about we scrap the morning run around the block and do some cardio of our own in your bedroom? What do you think?"

"I think that sounds amazing and you've definitely got a date…after I work out."

Phil rolled his eyes.

"Memphis…"

"What?"

"The last couple of weeks you have been obsessed with working out. Running, weight lifting, push ups, sit ups, you name it."

"I am not obsessed. You're being dramatic."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are."

"Fine, your six pack could use a little work on that side," he pointed out.

"Oh my God, where?" she began frantically looking. "Left or right?"

He smirked as she shook his head.

"See what I mean? I was just busting your balls to prove yet another point today. Gee, I'm on a roll."

"Punk!"

"What? I was just messing around. You look great…all of you."

"Okay, okay," she conceded with a sigh. "So I may be a little on edge and perhaps slightly OCD about getting in shape all of a sudden…"

"Slightly? Perhaps?"

She folded her arms and frowned.

"This is important to me and you know why."

That he did. It had all started the night Michelle Wilson had decided to pay a visit and offer Memphis the chance of a lifetime with the FHM interview and pictorial. Memphis had relayed the entire conversation to him once they were in the car onto the next city. Over and over she had repeated how she wasn't sure she was going to accept but based on the excitement in her voice and the twinkle in her eye, he knew her mind had long been made up before Michelle had even exited the arena. But her conversation nevertheless had been careful and guarded, waiting for his reactions, testing the waters to see if he would protest. He had not. Instead he had been oddly quiet and thoughtful, letting her make her own decisions. It was her life and her body. She could do what she wished with both. He had his own opinions but he had kept them to himself.

"I know why, Dollface," he simply stated. "Anyway, after your run and after the cool down sex, what's on the agenda for the rest of the day?"

She studied his face.

"Is that all you have to say?"

Phil frowned.

"Dinner. Maybe a movie. I don't know. This is your town. I am yours for the entertaining."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

"Then what are you talking about? Sorry, kid but I don't follow."

"It's just that you haven't said anything about the big pink elephant in the room."

"You mean Big Show is here?" Phil began looking around.

"I'm being serious. We haven't talked about the FHM shoot and it's coming up very soon. Don't you think we should?"

"What is there to talk about?"

"A lot."

"You're doing it, aren't you?"

"Well…yeah."

"And you're excited about it? Happy?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Then there is nothing else to say really."

Memphis cleared her throat.

"We've established how I feel about it but now I'd really like to know what your thoughts are."

"I think that you should do what makes you happy."

She rolled her eyes.

"I get that and I am very greatful for the support but we're talking about you here. I mean, does it bother you at all, you know, that men will be looking at me like that?"

"Does it bother you?"

"Punk! Dammitt, I can't stand it when you answer a question with a question. So annoying. I am trying my best to have a meaningful, serious conversation with you, my boyfriend, about an important decision that I have made that can impact our relationship and all you're doing is talking in circles."

"FHM ain't exactly Good Housekeeping. And we both know that you won't be discussing your love of horticulture during the interview. It is what it is. You're a hot chick and you're gonna be half naked and half the male population is gonna be ogling you. I can dig it."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I just…I, I know that Maria did Playboy and…"

"What does Maria have to do with any of this?"

"Nothing. It's just that, I don't know. You never told me how you felt about that and if that had any negative effects on your relationship?"

"You mean, is that why we broke up?"

"Well…yeah."

"It just didn't work out. Playboy was her decision and I respected that. She had her complaints that I treated her more like one of the boys than a lady. I had my complaints that I like someone who can actually hold an intellectual conversation. We had our differences but the Playboy thing had nothing to do with it, even though I think Playmates are way overrated."

"What about FHM models?" she asked softly.

He turned to her and smiled.

"I think FHM models are pretty okay, especially ones with big hazel eyes and cute dimples who pay way too much money for oversized purses and bitch about their men drinking straight out the carton."

Memphis relaxed a little bit.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. What's the problem?"

"There's no problem, it's just…"

"Just what? Talk to me, Dollface."

"I, I don't know. I just didn't expect you to be so cool with this whole photo shoot thing. I expcted you to say that say that I've worked so hard to be taken seriously for my skills and talent and now I'm putting myself out there to be judged on looks. And I expected you to say that I sold out for 75 grand and that I am feeding into the gimmick and the novelty and the sexuality, which is precisely what I wanted to avoid in the first place."

Phil gave her a serious look.

"Is that what you expected me to really say?"

"Well…yeah."

He gave a half shrug.

"I'm not gonna. Even though you may be on to something, that sounds more like your own conscience, babe, that little voice of reason in your head that's making you second guess your choices. To be honest, I respect you as a woman and a WWE performer. I want you to be judged on merit, not by how good you look spread eagle in skimpy lingerie with a staple in your belly button. But what you're doing is not a bad thing and I support you if that's what you want."

"But Punk…"

"Sex sells, babe. There is a lot of competition on that roster to be noticed. Everyone is always trying to outdo each other. Vince is always trying to form a connection with the WWE and mainstream media. In our business, it's all about who can get the most attention. FHM is definitely going to get people's attention, the question is, is it the kind of attention you want?"

His question was sobering and her response was only silence draped in deep thought.

"Are you disappointed in me?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Never."

Memphis ran her fingers through her hair.

"I, um, I'm gonna go for that run now. I, I guess I'll see you when I get back."

"Sounds good."

He gave her a quick kiss before disappearing back into the bedroom. The interaction had only left Memphis with an uneasy feeling. She was conflicted. She wanted to the do the FHM shoot but maybe Punk was right, maybe what she expected him to say was what she was feeling all along. Maybe his doubt, trepidation, and disappointment was really hers. Sighing, Memphis slipped out the back door and stretched her long legs for a warm up. She hoped the cool morning New England air would clear her head. Her heart and mind were conflicted and she needed answers. If she was doing the right thing, why did it feel so wrong?


	31. Land Of The Scared, Home Of The Brave

It was shortly after 3 p.m. and the last of the RAW Superstars had begun to file into the arena. Backstage was busy with its usual hustle and bustle. There was to be no staff meeting that afternoon and the briefing for the live broadcast had been e-mailed and printed for the talent to look over. The crew had finished setting up the ring and they along with the wrestlers and behind the scenes honchos were mulling about the empty arena. Memphis sat in a seat in the lower level that overlooked the floor and ringside, reading the local paper. A few of the other guys and gals had joined her in the area, most texting away on their cell phones or chatting with each other. The man sitting next to her was Mike Mizanin, better known to the WWE Universe as the Miz. He had been the first to reach out to her and end the Cold War. He had been in her shoes and that had formed a unique kinship between the two. Mike and Phil got along and Mike had traveled with Phil and Memphis a few times. Also Mike was in the process of making things on again with his on/off girlfriend, Maryse, who happened to now be a good friend of Memphis.

"You look exhausted," Memphis smiled and looked up.

"Big media day," he shrugged. "I had four radio interviews."

"Good deal. Sounds like somebody is getting a big push."

A grin crept to Mike's lips.

"I've been meeting with Creative and it's not set in stone yet, but…"

"But what? Come on, spill. You look so excited. What's going on?"

"After the next pay per view coming up, they are supposed to start my feud with Randy Orton. The pay per view that follows, well they said something about me maybe going over."

"For the belt?" Memphis' eyes grew as wide as her voice grew loud.

"Yeah. Shhhh," he laughed.

"Oh sweetie, that is so exciting! Kick ass! You deserve it."

"Thanks."

"Wait, does Randy know yet?"

"Yeah."

"What did he say? How did he take it?"

"Good. He knows he can't hold the title forever and besides, he has been a lot less of a dick lately. I don't know what changed him but he's not in a bad mood 24/7 anymore and for the most part, he has stopped torturing the locker room. I was walking down the hall the other day and bumped into the son of a bitch and he smiled at me. Randy Orton actually smiled at me, if you can believe it."

"Scary," Memphis laughed.

"Tell me about it. Told me it was okay and to have a nice evening. It's like he caught a disease all of a sudden and the main symptom is being pleasant."

Memphis giggled.

"People change, Mike."

"I guess. Maybe it has to do with that calming influence you seem to have over him."

"What?" her smile faded.

"I was just joking but ever since you two called a truce and became friends or whatever, he has been pretty cool."

"Oh," she shrugged uncomfortably. "It's just a coincidence."

"Anyway, I was thinking maybe you could use some of that sweet persuasion on my girl."

"Mike, that's not my place. I am not getting in the middle of this thing with you and Maryse. You guys are both my friends."

"I know, I know. All I'm asking is for you to put in a good word for me and possibly mention my name in conversation without forgetting to say how cute and adorable I am," he grinned.

She ruffled his hair.

"You really care for her, don't you?"

"She's beautiful. We've tried to make it work a few times and for whatever reason it didn't. A lot of times it had to do with my immaturity. But in the end, my heart keeps coming back to her. She is amazing and if I'm lucky enough to get another chance, I won't screw it up this time."

Memphis bit her lip, touched at his sincerity.

"Okay, okay. Normally I don't do this and I know I should stay out of it but I saw her backstage earlier and she was really bummed because her rental resevation got messed up. So if you were to go up to her and be nice and ask her how her day is going and…"

"I could totally kick A Ri out the car tonight and convince Maryse to ride with me. Nice conversation, maybe a romantic dinner…"

"Doesn't hurt to try."

"Memphis, you are the best! I am gonna call her right now."

He jumped up and left, leaving Memphis back to her paper. She knew she should stay out of other people's love lives but Mike was a good guy. Leaning back in the chair, she became engrossed in one of the articles when she felt a body plop in the chair beside her.

"What did she say?" Memphis didn't bother looking up. "Is it gonna be Mickey D's with A Ri or surf and turf with my girl tonight?"

"Depends on who your girl is although I'm sure it would be beat eating with that annoying fool anytime."

Memphis grinned.

"Hello Randy Orton."

He returned her grin.

"What's up? Haven't seen you in a while."

She shrugged.

"I've been pretty busy but I've been around. What's going on with you?"

"Not much," he stretched his tattooed and tanned arms. "So I take it Mike is trying to give it another go with Frenchie, huh?"

"They're sweet together."

"Aren't you the little matchmaker?"

"Don't hate. I'm happy so I want my friends to be happy. What's wrong with that?"

Randy laughed out loud.

"Forgive me. Phil and happy in the same connotation gives me the creeps quite frankly."

She playfully smacked him with her newspaper.

"Don't be mean. I swear, you two are like oil and water."

"We just don't mix, you got that right. I just don't see what you see in him."

"It's not for you to see. Punk is a great guy. I really care about him. He's smart and funny and sweet. And I think he's sexy."

Randy let out a belly laugh.

"Memphis, stop. For real. I think you just collapsed my lung."

She couldn't hide her smile as she shook her head.

"What can I say, I like beards."

"That dude is a total greaseball. I just don't see how he gets to date Playmates and FHM models."

"What?" Memphis turned to him. "Wait, how did you know about that, the FHM thing?"

He shrugged.

"Who doesn't? You know how fast word travels around here. I guess congrats are in order."

"Thanks," she mumbled.

"When is the day of the big shoot?"

"In three days."

"You ready?"

"I guess. I've been working out like a fiend and I'm nervous as hell."

"You don't sound very excited."

"I am."

Randy chuckled.

"That's not very convincing."

She sighed.

"I am, I really am. It is an amazing opportunity and I am flattered, it's just that a lot went into the decision."

"Sounds like you're having second thoughts."

"No. I mean…I don't know."

"Say it."

"It's nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing."

"It's not a big deal besides I don't want to lay all my problems on you."

"Why not? You let me lay all mine about Sam on you."

Memphis looked him in the eye. His face was both sincere and thoughtful.

"I, um, I want to do it. I do. Nothing like this has ever happened to me. In fact, things like this don't happen to me but I am nervous and a little self conscious, I guess. The images in that magazine…it's a lot to live up to. I want to be good enough even though I'm sure that sounds stupid," she gave a nervous laugh.

"It's not stupid at all," Randy spoke in a serious tone. "It's a normal reaction."

"Really?"

"Yeah. All eyes are gonna be on you. It's a big deal, a lot of attention. You don't want to mess up, who would? Some of the other girls are used to modeling and stuff and you've never done it before. Who wouldn't be a little rattled?"

She was surprised at how open he was and how comfortable that made her.

"But what if…"

"What if what?"

Memphis took a deep breath.

"Okay. What if I do this and it looks great and I get a lot of attention and the WWE gets a lot of attention but it's for the wrong reasons. You know how hard I've worked, Randy. To this day, I still don't get the respect I think I have earned by now from my fellow referees. That sucks. Finally people are taking me seriously and recognizing that I'm talented. I feel like I can stick around and maybe, hopefully do big things in this company. What if something like this turns me into a novelty and people start to see me as a joke? What if I'm just another pair of tits and ass to them?"

"What if, Memphis? What if you get hit by a truck tonight? What if I get injured and my career ends tomorrow? What if this is the greatest thing that could happen to your career? You never know. That's just life. You have to take the good with the bad and in this industry, you for sure have to take a lot of risks. It's a gamble and it can be scary because it could really pay off or it could backfire. But you're talented and you're beautiful and you've made it this far. People do respect you and if that respect is real, they aren't going to lose it just because of a photo shoot. Memphis, we work in a business where there will always be talk and at times you're going to catch some heat whether you deserve it or not. You just have to roll with it, take the good with the bad. You're tough, everyone knows that. It's time for you to hold your head high and live your life on your terms. If this FHM thing is something you want to do, throw caution to the wind and just go for it. Fuck what other people have to say. You know you're not a joke, you know how talented you are. You have to do what makes you happy."

"Wow," she mouthed.

"What?"

She shook her head.

"Thank you. I, uh…I kind of had mixed feelings but now, now I guess I don't. I know what I want. I've spent a lot of time trying to talk myself out of this but deep down, its what I really want, Randy. I feel like I can do this."

"Then go for it. Of course you can do it."

"Thanks."

"I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did. I feel better. I even feel more confident. I'm still scared and I'll probably be a clumsy wreck during the session and I'll be too chicken shit to look at the final pictorial but yeah…I can do this. I am going to do this."

"It's not brave if you're not scared. Ever hear that one?"

"Yeah."

"My old man used to tell me that all the time when I was a kid growing up. I'll tell you what."

"What?"

Randy cleared his throat.

"I'll let you in on a little secret."

"What's that?"

"Let's make a deal. You make your decision and go through with it and deal with the consequences, good or bad, and um…I'll do the same thing."

"What do you mean?" Memphis asked. "Did something happen with Sam?"

"No, it's not Sam. It's Hannah actually. Hannah Wilson, you remember her?"

"The pregnant girl?"

"Yeah. She had the baby, a little girl."

"Wow. Is it…"

"I don't know yet. The DNA test is in three days. Pretty ironic, huh?"

"I'll say. Are you scared?"

"Shitless.

"It'll be okay. I know my fear and trepidation in no way compares to yours but whatever happens, it's going to be okay. You'll deal with it and go on. And you're already stepping up, that says a lot."

"I guess."

"It's not brave if you're not scared," she winked.

Randy smirked at her, clearing his throat before attempting to lighten the mood.

"How about this? You're scared to look at the final pictures in the magazine and I'm scared to look at the results of the paternity test. How about we look together? Sound like a plan?"

"You've got yourself a deal, Orton. Besides, after what you said, I'm sure you'll only be too happy to look at the pics."

"What?"

"You said I was beautiful. Don't try to deny it and you can't take it back. I heard you and I thought it was very sweet. Thank you."

"Whatever. Don't get all full of yourself. I was just being nice, caught up in my Oprah moment," he joked.

"Yeah right."

"So if I shell out five or ten bucks or whatever the hell FHM goes for these days, are you gonna autograph it for me?"

"Maybe," she raised her eyebrows."And don't pretend like you don't know how much a copy of FHM costs. I'm sure you've bought plenty in your day."

"FHM is a tease and a waste of money. I like the real deal. I'm more of a Hustler type of guy."

"Iiiieeewww."

"I'm just kidding," he laughed.

Memphis laughed out loud as she and Randy got comfortable in the stands. Who would have thought that the two would ever be on such friendly terms? At the height of their real life feud, neither Memphis nor Randy would have guessed as much. And neither would Phil Brooks. In fact, the thought still perplexed him as he stared up at section 103, Row A.


	32. Get On The Bus

It was a lot of road from Mobile, Alabama to Tupelo, Mississippi, 276 miles to be exact. The rental car situation had been a nightmare. Ever since Memphis' flight had landed from New York, it had been nonstop chaos. She'd had to cab it straight it to the arena in order to not be late for the show. In the process, she had missed picking up her car, which had been subsequentally returned to the fleet and loaned to another customer. In between getting ready for the show and trying to clear all that up, at the last possible minute, literally seconds before she was due to walk out and referee a match, Hertz notified her via cell phone that she had lost her place on the top of the list of backup cars due to the original reservation being in the name of Philip Brooks. The representative did not care that she was Phil's girlfriend or that he had not been scheduled to work the Alabama house show and instead would meet up with the rest of the RAW crew through a flight straight to Mississippi. In a nutshell, she was shit out of luck. But it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for mishaps to happen with travel and when it did, the fellow crew members and talent were always there to have each other's backs. Memphis knew it would not be a problem to hitch a ride with anyone on the roster, minus the other referees.

The show went off without a hitch and the energy from the fans was as electrifying as usual. Memphis had officiated a match between her former arch nemesis Ted DiBiase Jr. and Bryan Danielson, better known to the WWE Universe as Daniel Bryan. She and Ted had had nothing to say to each other after the last incident where he had doused her in Randy Orton's tobacco spit. The Corporate brasses had forced him to apologize and he had done so in a less than sincere and enthusiastic fashion but such behavior was to be expcted. The two had kept their distance from each other backstage, limiting all interaction to whatever transpired in the ring. Memphis had been afforded the courtesy to turn down refereeing his matches in light of what had gone down but in her true fashion, she had refused the special favor and went on about her business accepting assignments as they came, no matter which Superstar or Diva was involved. Ignoring Ted's dirty looks and obvious disdain at being forced to job once again, they had gotten through the seven minutes. The match was next to the main event and Memphis had taken her time getting undressed and showering. When she emerged from the locker room, to her surprise, most of her friends had already taken off, headed to the next city without her. She hadn't had time to mention her need for a ride prior to the show and now standing in a fast emptying arena with her bags at her feet, she was beginning to regret it. Looking around, she saw a final glimmer of hope pulling out of the dark parking lot. Running with all her might, she chased down the bus banging on the doors with all her might. It slowed and finally stopped, the doors opening as Frank the driver peered out.

"Lady, are you crazy?" he looked at her as if she was.

"Frank, what the fuck, man?" grumbled an angry and familiar voice from the background.

In gym shorts and a grey tee shirt, a stone faced Randy Orton appeared. His face narrowed as he peered outside and his expression changed to a look of confusion as his blue eyes finally softened.

"Sorry, boss. This woman came out of nowhere. I had to stop. I damn near ran her over."

"It's okay," he said before turning to Memphis. "What's going on? You alright?"

"No," she pouted. "Look, I am so sorry for this. I have had the worst, no the most unbelievable day. First of all, Hertz aboslutely sucks. They screwed up my reservation and I have been arguing with those assholes all day and I basically told them to go fuck themselves, which probably wasn't the smartest move in the world considering I now have no way to get to Tupelo. I meant to catch a ride with Nattie and TJ or John and Melina…Mike, hell anybody but I didn't say anything and now they've all left."

Randy folded his arms and smirked.

"There's always Michael Cole. He's usually one of the last people out of the building."

Memphis cringed.

"Cole is gone. I checked so do you mind? I mean, this is a pretty big bus. Is there room for one more?"

"I don't know," Randy teased with that calculated demeanor the Apex Predator used to tantalize the fans. "I mean, it does seem that I am your last resort for a pretty big favor. That kind of stings the feelings, you know, that you would rather have rode with Michael Cole before asking me…"

"Randy!" she pouted again.

He couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay, okay. Get on."

"Thank you," she huffed, passing him her bags before stopping. "Oh wait. Shit."

"What's the matter?"

"One sec," she pulled out her phone and dialed.

The answer was immediate.

"What's up, Dollface? How was the show?"

"Good, um, really good. Everything went well. How are you? How was your day?"

"Uneventful. Just packing for tomorrow. You on the road yet?"

Memphis looked up at Randy who was eyeing her carefully and not even pretending that he wasn't listening to her conversation.

"I am. Well, I'm about to. See…it's a funny story actually. Well, not really. Anyway. I didn't get a chance to pick the car up before work so they gave it to someone else. I got on a standby list but then those fuckers booted me off when they saw that the reservation was in your name, not mine. They gave me the run around, I got pissed and basically got bumped for a car, which sucks. I was going to catch a ride but everybody left the arena before I had a chance to ask so now I'm pretty much stuck."

"That does suck. You okay?"

"Yeah."

"What are you gonna do?"

Memphis tugged at her lip.

"Randy was here. Uh, he says, it's, you know, it…it's cool if I go with him. It's just a few hours and…"

She was met with dead silence. After the awkward pause, she heard Phil take a deep breath.

"Okay."

Memphis frowned.

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Why not? I mean, you've got to get to the next town somehow or another, right?"

"Well, yeah but…"

"But what?"

"I, it's just that I know he's not your favorite person," she turned and lowered her voice. "You two don't like each other and…"

"Mutual hatred, you mean."

Memphis rolled her eyes.

"Something like that. Anyway, I know this looks bad and I don't want you to be uncomfortable but I really have no choice. I know how you feel about Randy but you and I talked about the trust thing so I wanted to be straight up with you."

"And I appreciate that, Memphis. It is about trust. And I trust you. I don't like it but do what you have to do and I'll see you in the next city."

She sighed out loud.

"I love you, Punk. You know that, right? And I can't wait to see you."

"Ditto, kid. Call me when you get to Mississippi, let me know you're okay."

"I will, babe. Have a good night," she hung up, still uneasy.

He had reacted better than she ever could have expected. It was a pleasant surprise but even though he had been cool and nonchalant about it, she detected a hesitant, troubled undertone in his voice. Shaking it off, Memphis exhaled and boarded the bus where Randy was waiting. Frank closed the doors behind them, then slowly pulled off. It was her second time on the bus. The décor was brown and the narrow walkway led to a spacious brown couch with a loveseat placed in front of it. It was much neater and a lot more litter free than her last visit.

"I can put your stuff in the back," Randy offered, still holding her bags.

"Thanks."

She followed him behind a curtain was a simple but comfortable looking bed was made. Behind another curtain was a door that led to a bathroom.

"This is pretty much it. Make yourself at home. I've got drinks in the fridge and if you're hungry, I'll get Frank to stop. If you want to lay down, go ahead. I can crash on the sofa."

"Oh I'm fine. Thanks. I'm not that tired," she rubbed her sweaty palms against her jeans.

The last thing she was going to do was fall asleep on Randy Orton's private bus.

"Cool," he collapased on the love seat, motioning for her to sit on the couch, which she did.

"This is nice," she looked around. "Fancy."

"Thanks. So how are you? How have you been?"

"Good," her eyes darted around. "Good."

Randy smirked again.

"Why are you so nervous?"

"Nervous?" she repeated unusually loud. "I'm not nervous. Why would you think that? What makes you say that?"

Randy shrugged.

"Just from the way you're acting. Maybe it has something to do with the phone call you just made."

"Randy…"

"Hey," he put his hands up defensively. "It's cool. I get it. You had to get your permission slip signed."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Phil…"

"I was not asking his permission."

"Could have fooled me."

"I was simply letting him know what the situation is. It's called courtesy and respect. He is my boyfriend and I am traveling unexpectedly with another man, someone he does not like very much, might I add. It was the right thing to do, being upfront with him."

"Okay. Whatever you say."

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"That thing you always do. That ridiculous smirk always plastered across your face."

"I call it a smile and I thought it was charming."

She shook her head.

"More like condescending."

"I was just messing with you. Couldn't resist when it comes to having some fun at Phil's expense."

"You're forgiven…this time," she leaned back into the plush comfort of the designer sofa.

"Beats a Hyuandai from Hertz, huh?" he raised one eyebrow.

"Any day," she had to admit. "A girl could get used to this."

"Maybe you'll get your own bus soon, considering you're about to blow up with the whole FHM thing."

"I doubt that," Memphis blushed.

"How did the shoot go?"

"Good. Very well actually. I was nervous but the people were really cool, a very professional and friendly staff. They made me comfortable. I got to listen to music, which really helped. We had gone over the setup for the shoots already. They whisked me into hair and makeup and as weird as it sounds…I felt like a different person."

"What do you mean?"

"I looked in the mirror and saw this really hot, really bad ass chick staring back at me. All of a sudden I felt so sexy and confident. We shot all day, then they did the interview. The issue will be out in about a month and a half."

"Awesome," Randy nodded. "So how did the film look?"

"I don't know. They sent me a few stills. I actually just got them in the mail yesterday but I was too chicken shit to look."

"Did you bring them?"

"They're in my bag. Why?"

Randy reached into a briefcase under the chair.

"Remember our little deal?"

Suddenly it all came flooding back, what they had promised each other.

"Are those…"

"Yeah. My lawyer forwarded them to me Friday."

"And you haven't looked yet?"

He shook his head and in that light she saw an oddly comforting vulnerability sweep over the Viper. Without another word, Memphis stood and went to the back, retrieving her own Manilla envelope. She rejoined him as they stared at each other.

"Rock, paper, scissors?" Randy half joked.

Memphis swallowed hard.

"Mine is way less important," she said as they exchanged envelopes. "You can open it first."

He did so without another word. Her heart pounded as he pulled out several of the glossy photos. He eyed them, his expession, his eyes never changing. After a few minutes, he handed them to her.

"You gonna look?"

"I…"

"Still nervous?"

"Petrified," she chuckled.

His eyes met hers and he was dead serious.

"Don't be," he said matter of factly. "The pictures are amazing."

His words made her heart skip a beat. With trembling hands, she took the pictures and forced herself to look at them. Her hair and makeup was flawless. In the first photo, she wore a white bikini, her smooth skin was oiled and perfect looking, showcasing proportioned breasts, a set of killer abs, and an ass one could serve breakfast off of. The next shot was a sexy profile of her in skimpy lace, black panties and a cutoff striped referee's tank top. She was seductively posed on all fours, staring provacatively at the camera.

"Oh my God…"

"What do you think?"

"I don't know what to think," she spoke in awe. "I, I can't believe that's me."

"Believe it. In a few weeks, the whole world is going to be looking at those pictures."

"Now you're making me all nervous again, Orton," she laughed.

"Good job."

She took a deep breath.

"Thank you. Now, um…it's your turn. You ready?"

Randy looked away.

"May as well get it over with, huh?"

Memphis carefully opened the envelope and pulled out its contents. Her eyes scanned the documents as Randy studied her face for any reaction.

"The probability is over 99.9999%..."

"Holy fuck," Randy sucked in a breath.

"…That you're _not _the father."

"What?" he whipped his head around.

She bit her lip.

"Did you hear me?" she asked softly. "The baby is not yours, Randy."

He lowered his head and breathed a huge sigh of relief. He looked up, his face turning red as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Damn…"

"You okay? How do you feel?"

"Relieved," he replied honestly. "Like I just dodged a bullet."

"You did."

He nodded.

"Damn. I'm not gonna lie, Memphis. I was scared out of my mind. I was not ready to be a daddy. Hell, I don't even like kids."

She smiled a faint smile.

"I find that hard to believe. I've seen you with the little fans. You're incredible."

"I don't know about all that," he played it off.

"Well, I guess this was a good thing. You weren't ready and you and Hannah don't even really know each other."

"It sucks. I was prepared to step up. I didn't want to…but I was going to."

"It was the right thing to do. You've matured a lot, Randy in the last few months. That situation was bigger than you were. Sometimes to do the right thing, you have to step outside of yourself. I'm proud of you for that, for what it's worth. And for the record, I think you would have found your way. You would have been a great dad."

"Maybe. Hopefully," he answered thoughtfully. "Who knows? The thought of having a kid freaked me out. The thought of having to raise a kid with a woman I barely even know freaked me out even more. I mean, I guess I've thought about it, starting a family years down the road and stuff but not now. My career is my life. Hannah didn't even live in Missouri. How can I be on the road 285 days a year and raise a child?"

"I'm sure it's tough but people manage."

"My dad did. He did a hell of a job, too. We butted heads through the years and had our share of battles but I really love and respect the man. If I could be half the father he was, maybe I'll do alright."

"I can tell he has been a strong influence in your life both inside and outside the ring."

"He has. His opinion…it counts. And trust me, he wasn't happy with the whole Hannah situation. Neither was my mom. That made it worse. It wouldn't be the first time I've disappointed him and probably won't be the last but it just sucked, you know? Dads…dads are tough."

"Tell me about it."

"What about your Old Man?" Randy inquired. "How does he feel about the whole wrestling thing? Think he is gonna freak out when he sees the FHM?"

Memphis looked away.

"He won't care. He, um…he never paid much attention to what I did. I could blow the world up and he wouldn't give a damn. We don't have much of a relationship these days so you were right."

"Right about what?"

"That day on the plane when we sat together and ended up arguing. You said that I struck you as the girl with the daddy issues who probably wanted to make it big in wrestling just to prove a point to him and get his attention. Well, a part of you…that was right."

She looked hurt like she might cry. Randy could tell that there were many painful and deep layers to that story. In that moment he felt bad for her and he felt like even more of an asshole for being so cruel to her back when they didn't get along.

"I'm sorry, Memphis…"

She forced a smile.

"It's okay. Look, I am kind of tired. If you don't mind, I'm just gonna lay down here…"

"No, it's cool. You want the bed?"

"I don't know who or what has been on that bed. This tour bus has probably seen more ass than a toilet seat," she ribbed him. "I'm fine here."

He smiled at her and nodded. It had been a long night.

"I'll be in the back if you need me. We should be in Tupelo in a few hours."

"Okay. Hey Randy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for tonight. I needed a friend and you were a great one."

"Right back at you," he nodded.

She laid down, tucking her feet underneath her. For a few fleeting seconds, he stood by the curtain and just watched her. She looked so serene and peaceful. From the moment he had first laid eyes on her, he had decided that she, much like himself, was a complex individual. That statement had proved to be truer than he ever could have imagined. They had come a long way. They were on their way to becoming friends, real friends and that was nice. Randy really liked her. She had been there for him and he had found it surprisingly easy to let down his guard and share private things with her. He appreciated how she listened to him and did so without judgement. She had been there for him in his time of need and he in turn had tried to return the favor. Her fears had been understandable but unfounded. Her talent and beauty was going to take her far. The WWE and FHM were just the tip of the iceberg as far as Randy was concerned. And seeing those sexy photos had only proved that. He'd had to think of puppies and kittens and even the weather, anything to keep that bulge from forming underneath his shorts. But it had been hard…no pun intended. What normal, straight, red blooded man wouldn't react like that? Memphis Kramer was gorgeous.


	33. One Step Forward, Five Steps Back

Memphis studied her boyfriend, giving him a serious look. His eyes briefly cast upwards, meeting her gaze with a sobering look of his own.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"There's nothing to talk about, Dollface."

Memphis exhaled.

"Looks like you have a decision to make."

Phil Brooks popped his knuckles.

"I guess I do. And it kills me because I know this is gonna hurt you but trust me, Memphis, this will hurt me way more than it's going to hurt you."

She ran her fingers through her hair.

"Go for it. A man's got to do what a man's got to do."

Phil nodded and then he made his move.

"It was sweet while it lasted but this is over. Checkmate."

Memphis watched with a sad face as Phil won the intense game of chess the pair had been playing for the last two hours.

"You absolutely suck!" she pouted.

"Harsh words from a sore loser," he teased. "And I do not suck. In fact, this is the ninth game of chess we've played together and this would be my fifth crushing victory, which means that I am the superior player and if anyone sucks, my dear, it would be you."

"Oh this isn't over, Philip Brooks, not by a long shot. I will defeat you in this game of wits and wills and reclaim supremacy if it's the last thing I do."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know why you insist on the humiliating repeat of this pathetic intellectual beatdown but I will humor you."

"Oh is that what you call it?" she laughed out loud.

"Winning is too easy, like taking candy from a baby. I'm gonna start playing you for clothes. Seriously. Strip chess, best two out of three."

Memphis giggled out loud as she stood from her chair and walked to the other side of the small table where they had set up the board game in their hotel. She plopped down in his lap, caressing his face as she lowered her lips over his and captured the moment with a kiss. The city was Topeka and after another successful and exciting sold out Monday Night RAW, the happy couple had reconvened inside the quiet and private confines of their hotel room. Things had been going well. Though Phil continued to battle with the daily discomfort of a nagging hip injury, he had recently begun a grueling rehab regimine that was geared to getting him back in the ring, stronger and faster than ever. It had cut into his travel schedule, eliminating his duties commentating on the house shows and other non televised events. That left pay per views and of course, RAW. It felt good to do what he had to do to start wrestling again, but at the same time, he missed being with his girl on the road.

Memphis was enjoying her life with the WWE. Every day was a new adventure and each morning she had to pinch herself to make sure it all wasn't just a dream. It was a dream…a dream come true and she was loving every moment of it. In a short time, she had already garnered the mainstream attention,which had culminated in the FHM shoot. She was officiating more and more matches, many of them main events, which was the job she loved she more than anything. The road was more fun than she thought possible and making everything even better, she had developed some special and real relationships with her co-workers. Phil Brooks had turned out to be a good match, the yin to her yang. A caring, funny, sarcastic, sexy, lovable boyfriend who had made her a very happy lady. Then there were the other Superstars and Divas on the roster. It was a good feeling to come to work and just relish in the comradery and positive engery that surrounded the backstage area. With the exception of Ted DiBiase Jr. and the rest of the referees, she got along with all the talent and the crew. Memphis had particularly grown pretty close with Mike Mizanin, Maryse Ouellet, John Hennigan, and Nattie Neidhart. She spent a lot of time with Melina Perez also. It was nice having a girl BFF, someone to giggle and gossip with, someone to shop with and talk to. She hadn't had much of that in her life and she was learning to let her guard down and just enjoy it. She was enjoying something else as well.

Randy Orton was one of a kind, good or bad. He and Memphis had started their relationship on the wrong foot and things had only gone downhill from there. After months of torment and ill will, it had ended with the ultimate humiliation. As she had stood there, staring at him that night with tears in her eyes, the anger, sadness, embarrassment, confusion and hate she felt for him was scarily overpowering. Never in a million years could she have guessed that she would forgive him. But circumstances had happened and in a process where both individuals had matured profoundly and learned to find themselves, that forgiveness had produced a unique kinship. They had talked and spent time together. In those minutes and hours, each had been uncharacteristically vulnerable and let the other in on some of their most personal feelings and thoughts. They were more alike than they thought and had more in common than either dreamed possible. It was safe to say they were friends, something the two were comfortable and happy with. It was a mutually beneficial connection.

Memphis had arrived in Topeka that morning, arriving in a rental with Maryse and Victoria "Alicia Fox" Crawford. After enjoying brunch with the girls, she had settled in the hotel and caught a quick nap after a workout. By 2 p.m. she was in the arena. She had attended a meeting and had gone over the two matches she was scheduled to officiate. After hair and makeup, she had wandered over to catering for a quick snack that consisted of an apple and a Crystal Light. It was there that she had bumped into Randy and the two had casually chatted about 15 minutes before Phil had arrived. The two men had grunted what could have been interpreted as either greetings or insults at one another, and Phil had gotten some grub as his girlfriend finished her conversation. He hadn't made a big deal about it or openly jocked them and Randy hadn't gone out of his way to be a douche. Memphis could only count it as progress and when it came to those two, she would accept what she could get. The show had started and ended without a hitch. Afterwards, she and Phil had gone out to dinner with Melina and John, and Nattie and TJ. When they returned to their room, instead of opting for sleep, they had continued their ongoing chess rivalry that had resulted in several heavily contested matchups during the course of their relationship. It was now after four a.m. and neither was tired.

"You don't have to challenge me to chess if you want to see me naked," Memphis teased, biting Phil's earlobe. "If you just ask nicely, who knows, it could be your lucky night…"

"Ask nicely, huh?" he growled, attacking her neck. "I've got one word for you..."

"Please?"

He pulled away and shook his head.

"Rematch."

"You read my mind," she grinned, licking her lips. "I am going to smoke your ass in this next game, and then I am going to give you really hot consolation sex."

"Daddy loves it when you talk dirty."

Memphis went to take a sip out of her cup and frowned when she did so.

"Ugh, that's gross."

"What's wrong, Dollface?"

"My water got all warm. How's your Diet Pepsi?"

Phil shrugged.

"The ice melted."

"Set up the board and I'll go get us some ice, okay?" she volunteered, grabbing the complimentary hotel provided ice bucket.

"Make sure you grab enough for the freaky after chess nookie," Phil called out loudly just as Memphis was closing the door behind her.

She shook her had and laughed as she made her way to the end of the hall. Just her luck, the ice machine was broken. Sighing grumpily, she headed to the elevator and took one floor up, hoping for better luck. Indeed there was an ice machine and it happened to be in working harder. Memphis filled up the bucket, humming to herself lost in her own little world as out of the corner of her eye, she saw a door to one of the rooms open. A pretty and petite girl with long brown hair stumbled out of the room. Her hair was tussled and her makeup was smeared all over her face. She was stumbling over her own feet, carrying her heels in her hands as she struggled to button her low rise jeans.

"Sweetie, you okay?" Memphis carefully approached her.

In her law days, she had seen too many cases of young, intoxicated girls being in the wrong place at the wrong time. More often than not, the stories had bad endings. As a woman, Memphis couldn't help but be concerned.

"Yeah," the girl slurred, reaching into her purse and frantically moving stuff around. "Can't…find, my, my keys."

"Are you staying here?" Memphis questioned. "And I really don't know if it's a good idea for you to be behind a wheel right now."

Just then the door opened, from which the girl had just exited from.

"Hey, you forgot these."

Both women turned around in the direction of the voice. The girl smiled goofily and staggered back towards the room, towards the shirtless man dangling a set of keys into the hallway. Memphis' mouth fell open. It was Randy.

"Thanks," she took them from him.

Randy's eyes caught Memphis' and he looked away.

"See ya," was all he had to say.

The girl made her way to the elevator as Memphis walked over to where Randy was still standing.

"Is she okay?" she asked.

Randy shrugged.

"I guess."

"You guess?"

"What do you want me to do?"

Memphis rolled her eyes.

"Some random chick leaves your room in the middle of the night, quelle surprise, and she can barely stand up. She's going God knows where and you just let her leave and then stand there like it's no big deal."

"It's not," he answered matter of factly.

"Randy! She obviously has been drinking…or worse. You can't just let her drive home."

"Relax. I called her a cab. The keys she left behind were just house keys."

Memphis breathed a sigh of relief.

"That is good to know."

"Anyway, what are you doing up here on this floor?" Randy, smiling, folded his massive, tattooed arms. "Stalking me?"

"What? No. I…The machine is broken on my floor and Punk and I needed ice."

"Kinky," Randy smirked. "I'll try to ignore the mental image creeping up in my mind before I throw up in my mouth a little."

"Not for that. God, dude, sometimes I swear you are so impossible. It's for our drinks."

"If that's your story," he shrugged. "Anyway, guess I'll see you around."

He went to shut the door but noticed she was still standing there. Her look was serious and one of disappointment.

"You're never gonna learn, are you?" she asked softly.

"What are you talking about?"

"I thought you changed, Randy. I thought you were working really hard to become a different person, a better person."

"We both know I've done some things I'm not proud of. I have changed. I think you of all people know that."

"You haven't changed. You're back up to your old tricks again."

"Memphis…"

"Sleeping with strange girls in every city? Really, Randy?"

He chuckled.

"I'm still a man. I have needs and one of those needs is to get laid every now and then. I don't recall reading the part where becoming a good guy means giving up ass."

"It's not funny. I mean, does the name Hannah Wilson and do the paternity test results I read to you not even two weeks ago, ring a bell? You dodged a major bullet, made a huge mistake and after you poured your heart out to me, I gave you the benefit of the doubt and assumed you had actually learned something. But I guess not."

"Relax, Mom. I used a rubber this time."

"It's not about that."

"What is your deal?" Randy eyed her.

Memphis sighed.

"You are a good guy on the inside. I've seen you be that stand up guy. You're good looking and intelligent and so very talented. You're lost on the inside but we all go through things like that. It's just a matter of finding yourself . I, I thought you were on your way. But this…this isn't you, the real Randy…or at least it doesn't have to be. The drinking, the weed smoking, the getting in trouble at work, being an ass to everyone, hooking up with random ring rats in every city…it's all the same."

"It's not what you think," Randy replied quietly.

"Why? You're better than that, Randy. I have seen you be better than that. Why?"

He looked at her like a child that had just been scolded after being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Normally he didn't give two shits what others thought about him. Any other broad that got in his face and had the nerve to try to call him on anything would have been verbally cut down right on the spot. But not Memphis Kramer. Memphis was different. He hated to admit it but her opinion did matter. She looked angry, disappointned in him even. And that oddly bothered him.

"I, I don't know."

She nodded. Neither did she.

"I have to go."

"Look…"

She grabbed the ice bucket.

"I'll um, I guess I'll see you around. Good night, Randy."

He watched her turn the corner and then disappear into the elevator a few seconds later. For some reason he couldn't take his eyes off of her and for some reason after her chastising, he felt an element of shame at his actions. He wanted to call her back, talk to her, attempt to explain it somehow but he knew it was no use. It was just better to let it go. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes as he closed the door softly behind him.

"Good night, Memphis."


	34. True Love Or True Desperation?

Phil Brooks paced around the living room of his home. The Chicago weather outside was cold and unforgiving. It had been a long and difficult week. His WWE travels had been sidelined completely due to the rigorous physical therapy that had recently begun on his injured hip. It all had started in a routine match with Adam "Edge" Copeland. The script had called for Punk to take a DDT midmatch. The second he landed, he had known something was immediately wrong. The pain was sharp and intense and like nothing he had ever felt before. The problem was, it hadn't gone away. It had lingered and lingered, hindering him not only from performing in the ring but it had also started to affect his activities of daily life. Standing, walking, and sitting for extended amounts of time was incredibly uncomfortable. The WWE ordered an MRI and the culprit was diagnosed as a torn tendon. It was thought that surgery might be required but the lead physician had deemed last minute that it was not necessary. Plenty of rest, aggressive physical therapy, and one to five months out of action was the plan to have him healed by Wrestlemania.

He loved the WWE. He loved his life. Wrestling was all he had really ever wanted to do anyway. The schedule was tough and demanding and after years of trying to make a name for himself in the Indy's, he had finally made it to the place that every up and coming worker was striving to get to. He didn't realize just how much the lifestyle had taken a toll on him. He was starting to get burned out. So even though a nagging hip injury sucked, it gave him the opportunity to lighten his travel load and work duties. The company had thought enough of him to keep him on as a commentator. For Phil it was all about going with the flow.

He wasn't particularly close to anyone on the roster. He got along with his co-workers, a lot of them he even considered friends but he was a private man, quiet and thoughtful, serious and complex, guarded and controlled. He rarely opened up. He had tried to let his guard down with Maria Kanellis. He had sworn he would never go for the typical Diva but her beauty was riveting and her sweet personality was irresistible. It had been good while it lasted. They had fun and the sex had been incredible but it was not enough to keep the relationship going. It had ended, not on the best of terms but deep down Phil would always care for Maria. That was evidenced as he saw her get herself tangled inside Randy Orton's web of deceit.

The running joke backstage was that the man's tour bus had a revolving door. He loved the ladies and they loved him. Randy's favorite line to the guys was, "Pussy comes a dime a dozen and I have a dollar". Comments like that only left Phil shaking his head. The recent paternity claim had put young Randal in the hot seat and he had dodged a bullet when the child had turned out not to be his. But it wasn't the first time he had found himself in hot water due to his cavalier sexual escapades. There had been the time he had hooked up with a young woman who had turned out to quite young indeed…17. Her father had been irate and had threatened all kinds of law suits. The family had been quietly paid off before the sordid details became public. Then there was the time he had contracted a nasty case of Gonorrhea from a stripper in New Jersey. There had been truth to each rumor and the scandalous details of the Viper's private life had made their way around the locker room. None of it had stopped him or slowed him down for that matter. Randy was young and successful, rich and handsome, reckless and dangerous. He was a man who did what he wanted and he always got what he wanted. He cared about no one but himself and that was a proven fact. Friendships and relationships meant nothing to him unless he was gaining something from it. Randy Orton could not be trusted, plain and simple. Phil knew that, now he just had to hope his girlfriend would soon realize it before it was too late.

Memphis Kramer was unlike any woman Phil had ever met before. She was beautiful on the outside but the main attraction was her inner beauty. That wicked sense of humor, razor sharp intelligence, strong will, and the way she shot it straight and didn't take crap from anyone. Being around her was fun and exciting and Phil adored everything about her. He could talk to her about any and everything from the pain of his childhood that had fostered his straight edge adulthood to his favorite books. She understood the WWE life and her work ethic was admirable and matched his own. And despite that rock hard exterior, there was something internally vulnerable about her. It was an endearing contrast that made him want to hold her, take care of her. Randy had been a thorn in her side from the very beginning. His actions had been childish and nevertheless dastardly. Memphis had been hurt but a change of heart followed by a freak accident had turned everything around. Phil had watched helplessly from the sidelines as the woman he loved had fallen hook, line, and sinker for Randy Orton's bullshit.

Phil had never considered himself the jealous type. But recently he had found himself feeling differently. Two emotions had fueled that change in thought and behavior….his love for Memphis and his hate for Randy. He wasn't stupid. Randy was trying to get Memphis into bed. That was his angle. Every woman threw herself at The Legend Killer's feet and the few that didn't, amused him enough to issue a personal challenge to change their minds. Memphis was better than that and the thought of Randy's grimy hands all over her was enough to make Phil physically sick. But he saw it all coming. He saw Memphis being used and ultimately hurt again by Randy. And he saw himself losing the one woman he cared deeply about. Folding his hands as he winced from the pain in his hip, Phil's thoughts were interrupted as his cell phone rang. Digging it out of his pocket, he checked the Caller ID and smirked before answering it.

"Dollface."

"Hey you," came the warm voice on the other end of the line. "How are you?"

Phil shrugged.

"The tendon is still a little sore which pretty much sucks but I can't complain. I mean, what can you do, right? Talk about a real pain in the ass."

She couldn't help but smile.

"I'll be sure to give you a nice butt massage later," she quipped.

He checked the clock.

"Speaking of, when does your plane land? Did you find something yet?"

Last minute, she had decided to join him in Chicago. There had been some bad weather between New York and Illinois so it had been quite the feat to get a flight out but he had been anxiously awaiting her arrival.

"You could say that."

"Want me to pick you up at the airport?"

"No."

Phil furrowed his brow.

"What are you up to?"

"Open up your front door and find out."

He did as he was told. On the other side, she was there, hair pulled back, no makeup on, wearing a leather jacket with her skinny jeans tucked into a pair of high heeled boots.

"What a pleasant surprise," he folded his arms.

"I made it. After being on the standby list forever, not being able to get a flight out of Macarthur and having to go all the way out to JFK, after the bumpiest flight in the history of flights, and after having a bratty eight year old kick the hell out of my seat for three hours straight, after me trying to tidy up in the O'Hare airport bathroom to no avail, obviously, here I am, a happy to see you, tussled, aggravated, exhausted mess. What do you think?"

He gave her a serious look.

"I think you look breathtaking."

An embarrassed smile came to her lips.

"Mug me or marry me…that's been my motto all day. I don't have the energy for anything else."

He picked up her bag and ushered her inside where Memphis quickly shed her jacket and boots. She closed her eyes and relished in the warmth of the house as her boyfriend guided her to the cozy comforts of his couch. There she curled up in his arms, sighing in contentment. She had a way of bringing out this uncharacteristically affectionate side of him. Holding her close, her buried his face in the sweet smell of her shampooed hair. Finally tilting her face forward, he looked deeply in her eyes.

"Memphis?"

"What?"

He was staring so intently, it was almost scary.

"I love you."

"Baby, I love you, too."

"I mean that," he repeated in a voice barely above a whisper. "I really, really love you."

"I know you do," she nodded, pulling his face downwards for a passionate kiss.

When they finally released, she reached over on the floor and unzipped her carryon piece of luggage she had brought with her.

"What are you doing?"

"I couldn't come empty handed. I have a surprise for you."

Pulling out a neatly wrapped package, she handed it to him.

"Memphis…"

"Just open it, babe."

He did so and immediately began to grin when he saw the contents.

"Wow."

"You like it?"

"Book Four of Gotham Central."

She made a face.

"I know how excited you were to read it but I wasn't sure if you had gotten it yet. Am I too late?"

He touched the cover.

"No. You're, um, you're right on time. It's a great present, Dollface. Thank you. I love it."

"I'm glad. I saw it and couldn't help but think of you."

"This is really cool," he said quietly.

"Are you sure? I mean, you don't seem very excited. If you don't like it…"

"No, it's not that, Memphis. It's great. That is exactly what I wanted and you somehow knew that even though I never came right out and told you so. That…that's pretty cool. I like that about you, how sometimes you know what I'm wanting or thinking or feeling without me having to say it. I guess I never had that before and I don't want to lose that."

"Lose it? What do you mean? You won't. You won't lose me."

"I'm glad that you're here."

"I'm glad to be here but babe, are you sure you're okay? You're acting kind of weird. Is everything alright?"

"I want you around all the time. Tell me, does that sound as creepy as it did for me to say it?"

She chuckled.

"It's not creepy. I love being around you. I'm actually kind of bummed about your new travel schedule. I miss you when you're not on the road with me."

"I miss it too, Memphis, that's why I want you to move here."

"What?"

Phil looked around.

"So it ain't Buckingham Palace. It's a modest two story house that I spend more time fixing up than I do actually living here. I like to leave my dirty underwear on the floor sometime and my comic book collection has its own bedroom but uh…it's home. It's mine. It's where my heart is and you have my heart, Dollface. I know you don't have ties to New York, that you basically moved to Long Island for the whole lawyer thing. Hell, you're barely home yourself. I'd move there with you but face it, I love this city. I love this house and I love you. Move in with me."

"Phil…"

Memphis was taken aback. His words were soft, serious, and sincere. It had come out of the blue and she was still trying to process it all but before she could, he had another bombshell to drop. He leaned over and reached into the drawer beside the couch. He pulled out a small box that he had been carrying around for a few days. One day hurting and exhausted after therapy, bored from sitting at home, missing Memphis, and worrying about her alone on the road with Randy, he had taken the subway to Chicago's downtown loop location. Wandering around Wabash Street, he had found himself at the Jeweler's Mall. Jewelry had never been his thing. He found it flashy and gaudy and he had never bothered to shower a girlfriend with rings, earrings or bracelets before but a beautiful white gold band with a square cut black onyx centerpiece had immediately caught his eye. The sides were lined with diamonds. It cost a couple thousand but money was no object. Though it wasn't a marriage proposal, he couldn't help but imagine slipping it on her finger.

"I wanted you to have this," he put it on her as her much smaller hands shook inside his.

"Oh…oh my God…"

"Do you like it?"

Tears clouded her eyes.

"I…it….Phil, it's beautiful. You didn't have to. You shouldn't have."

"So what do you say?" he asked her.

A lump formed in her throat.

"I, I'm shocked. I don't know what to say."

"Just say what's in your heart."

She glanced down at the ring, then back at him. It was unbelievable. She knew that Phil cared about her but she had no idea how much until that moment.

"Do you mean this? I mean, is this what you really want, for me to move to Chicago, move in with you full time?"

"Yeah," he said simply. "I do."

"Then I guess I want it too," she laughed nervously. "Wow. When, when do we do it?"

"Whenever you want. The sooner the better."

Memphis nodded, looking in awe again at the gem adorning her left hand. As he watched her, Phil felt a measure of relief inside. He loved that woman more than anything. All he wanted was to keep her safe, make her happy. And now they had a chance.


	35. Who's Convincing Who?

Memphis tugged at her lip as she stared at the variety of choices that Catering had to offer for a late lunch. She finally settled on a fruit salad and low calorie, sugar free flavored water. She took a seat at a corner table set up in the back and picked at the sparse meal with a plastic fork. Taking a big mouthful, she finally noticed the hulking figure that loomed above her. Memphis looked up. Sneakers, tanned legs, workout shorts, a Nike tee shirt, and a lot of tattoos.

"Hi," she said, using a napkin to wipe the corner of her mouth.

Randy Orton nodded and unscrewed the cap on his bottle of water before taking a big swig.

"What's up?"

She studied him and took a quick mental note of his newly altered physical appearance. Usually he kept his hair damn near bald and his face clean shaven. He had recently begun to let his dark tresses grow out a little and his face was now covered with a week's worth of new beard.

"Have a seat," she motioned at the empty chair across from her.

Randy pulled it up and took a seat without a second thought.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"You gonna eat?"

"Nah. I had a big breakfast and I'm gonna eat a protein bar when I get back to the locker room. Just wanted to grab some water and uh…I saw you sitting in here."

"Cool," she said casually. "What's going on?"

He shrugged.

"Nothing much. Just seeing if you were still pissed off at me."

She made a face.

"What do you mean? Why would I be mad at you?"

Randy shot her a knowing look.

"What's with the sudden case of amnesia? Remember last week in front of my room?"

Memphis cringed. Did she ever remember.

"Oh yeah. That. Whatever," she tried to casually brush it off.

Randy's blue eyes twinkled with mischief.

"So we're gonna play it like that, huh?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb," he smirked. "You were mad."

"I wouldn't go that far…"

"Memphis…"

"Fine," she rolled her eyes. "I was upset."

"Why?"

"Because…"

"Because what?"

"Where do I start? That poor girl was drunk off her ass and I was worried how she was going to make it home in one piece."

"She was fine. I told you I called her a cab."

"And that's good, I guess, but still."

"What?"

"I specialized in Environmental Law when I practiced but I interned with a top prosecutor in the City for a while before that. I saw a lot of cases, too many, of young girls partying too much, hooking up with random guys and bad things ended up happening to them…like rape or even worse," she visibly tensed up. "It was awful. I don't know, just seeing her did something to me. You hate to think the worse but there are a lot of creeps in this world. Someone could easily have snatched her up while she was waiting for the taxi. You never know. Unfortunately bad things like that happen all the time."

Randy tapped his thick fingers against the table.

"I guess I never thought of it like that."

"Most people don't. I know you were in…the moment, shall we say but you really need to be more considerate."

"You're right," he agreed right away.

Memphis frowned.

"I am? I mean, I know I am but you feel the same way?"

"It is what it is. Next time, I'll make sure she gets safely inside the cab."

Memphis gave an exasperated sigh.

"Randy…"

His lips broke out into a sexy grin.

"What?"

"It's really nothing to joke about."

"I know. I was just busting your balls. I mean, you do have a point. I get that and looking back, maybe it was kind of dangerous for her, inconsiderate even."

"Thank you."

He gave her a look that made the little hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

"Why do you care so much anyway?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Yeah, you may be right and I get that. I respect that. But you seemed to be awful concerned about my private life and who I'm sleeping with."

"I already told you. The Hannah thing was a close call. You shared that with me and I saw how it affected you. After all the drama and stress of that situation, I figured you would have been smarter about stuff, that's all."

"Again, you're right and that gives me something to think about in the future. I just…uh, wanted to make sure that was the only reason."

"I don't follow, Randy."

"Just making sure you weren't jealous or anything."

His voice was low and judging by the look on his face, she couldn't tell whether or not he was yanking her chain or being serious.

"Are you being for real right now?"

"Depends on your answer," he grinned before drinking more water.

Memphis let out a nervous laugh.

"Ha, ha, wise ass. Good one but to answer your ridiculous question slash accusation, I am not nor was I ever jealous. In addition to that being just plain silly, trust me, that's the last thing you have to worry about."

"Just checking," he kept teasing. "After all, you are a kept woman."

"I don't know if 'kept' is the word. I prefer happily attached."

"Whatever you say," he laughed out loud, looking down as he caught a quick glimpse of her left hand.

"What?"

"What the hell is that?"

Memphis followed his gaze, taking a look at her ring finger.

"What's it look like?"

"A really cheap, goth engagement ring."

"You just keep coming with the jokes today, huh?"

Randy wasn't finished yet.

"Phil give that to you?"

"Yes, he did," she stated proudly.

He chuckled.

"What, you two getting married or something?"

"Why? What business is it of yours?" she ate some more salad.

"Never stopped you from butting into my life."

The man had a point.

"This ring was given to me without question and without response."

Randy looked at her like she was delusional before busting into a hearty belly laugh.

"Dude…"

"Randy, stop laughing," she demanded with a pout. "What's so funny?"

"You. The whole situation. Damn, you sound just like his ass. It's like his whole crazy cult leading gimmick just came to life and you're the newest disciple under his spell."

"Stop it. Come on…"

"Wait. When he gave you the ring was he sitting down all cross legged doing his best Manson impression?"

"You're making fun of me."

"You got me on that one," he continued to laugh. "I didn't know you were crazy."

"What's so crazy about being in love?" she asked softly.

Randy met her stare.

"Yeah right."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Get out of here, Memphis. You are not in love with Phil Brooks."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

"I am and I don't get why that is so hard for you to believe."

"It's very hard to believe. The guy is a loser."

"You don't know him. And you don't know our relationship. Despite what you think, we have a beautiful relationship. He is a kind man, very intelligent and funny and hard working. He has a lot of great qualities that I admire. And he takes care of me."

"I think that is exactly it."

"I beg your pardon."

"He takes care of you. You had it rough when you first came to the WWE. Most of that was my fault. He was your only friend and maybe you're drawn to that, it's comforting and familiar. Or maybe…just maybe you think you owe him something."

"Don't try to psychologize me, Orton," she smirked.

"Oh, we're back on a last name basis again?"

"Yeah if you're gonna revert back to being a total douche bag again."

"I just call it like I see it," he shrugged. "If we're gonna be friends we should at least be able to be honest with each other…right?"

"Honesty, I can respect. But you're being patronizing and rude. That's not cool."

He put his hands up.

"Sorry if I offended you."

Memphis wasn't done.

"And I do love him. He makes me very happy. Regardless of what brought us together, it is a very serious relationship. He gave me this ring because he loves me. I wear it because I love him. Marriage might not be in our near future but he did ask me to move to Chicago to live with him."

Randy felt his chest tighten unexpectedly. He loved giving Memphis shit about Phil and their relationship but seeing the ring and hearing that Phil wanted them to move in together put a whole new spin on things.

"What did you say?"

"I said yes."

"Do you mean it?"

Memphis rolled her eyes again.

"Of course I mean it, silly. You don't agree to something that serious, that important unless it is something you really want."

"And you want it?"

"Yes, I do. 100, no 1000 times yes."

Randy swallowed hard.

"I guess congrats are in order."

"Would be nice if you actually meant that."

He ignored her.

"So when is the big move?"

Memphis loudly cleared her throat.

"Um, I don't know."

"You don't know?" he raised an eyebrow.

"We talked about it," she began to ramble. "We're just both really busy. And I've got a bunch of loose ends to tie up in Long Island before I move away. Punk is still doing some remodeling. Timing kind of sucks right now but we're uh…we're working it out. We'll get it together. Soon, hopefully. I mean, it will be soon."

"I see."

"What was that for?"

"What was what for?"

"That shit eating smirk on your face."

"What can I say? I'm Randy Orton. That's what I do, I smirk."

"I'm not joking around, Randy."

He shifted in his seat.

"Look, I don't want to fight with you. Obviously we feel different about the situation. I'm not inside your head, I'm just a friend, just a guy looking from the outside in. You tell me you want to move halfway across the country to be with this guy, you swear up and down that you're in love with him but the whole time as you're trying to convince me, it sounds like you're really trying to convince yourself."

His words were simple and matter of fact. He wasn't teasing or being mean. He was simply speaking his mind.

"That's not true," she replied quietly.

"If it's not, then why are you stalling on the move?"

Memphis opened her mouth but she did not have an immediate answer. Randy's gaze was intense and she was relieved when John "Morrison" Henngian showed up.

"What's up, guys?" he nodded with a friendly smile.

"Hey," Memphis and Randy both managed to mumble.

"Memphis, have you seen Melina?"

"Um, no, not lately. Sorry."

"That's cool. I just finished up some Parkour training. I'll catch up with her later. She's probably out shopping with Nattie and Barbara."

"Yeah…"

"Anyway, I'm gonna hit the showers. I'll see you around."

"Okay. Bye, John."

John turned to Randy and grinned.

"What's all this, man? You ripping off my style or what?" he rubbed his own facial hair.

Randy turned right to Memphis and looked her dead in the eye.

"You know how it is. Chicks dig beards…or so I've heard."

Memphis caught a chill as she instantly remembered their conversation that day in the empty arena when she had jokingly mentioned that the facial hair on Phil was what had attracted her.

"You know what, John? On second thought, I'm gonna come with you. I need to talk to Melina too."

"Okay," he said.

She gathered her trash and put her chair back.

"I'll see you around, Randy."

"First names again?"

"And it'll stay that way if you stop being a dick."

She raised one eyebrow before turning around and leaving with John. Randy leaned back in the seat. He was shocked and a little miffed that Memphis and Phil had gotten so serious but his playful banter with her had been quite amusing. He had called her on her shit, on her doubts and fears and it had clearly gotten under her skin. Phil Brooks was a weirdo. A douchebag. A self righteous tool. A freak. And he didn't deserve a girl like Memphis Kramer. From day one Randy had been intrigued by her, obsessed almost, whether it came from a good or bad place. Now he had gotten to know her and they had established a rapport. He liked what he saw, what he heard. In fact, he liked everything about her.


	36. Calm Before The Storm

John Hennigan climbed out of the midsized rental car and swiftly walked around to the other side to open up the passenger door in order to let his longtime girlfriend, Melina Perez, out. The door slammed and the couple waited to be joined by two more friends who were exiting the back seat.

"Good choice, Mel," Memphis Kramer grinned. "Smells delicious."

It was a Monday night and the RAW broadcast had finally gone off the air. The performers had showered and dressed and slipped out of the arena, past the legions of loyal fans who waited, some not so patiently, in the parking lot for autographs, pictures, and mere glimpses of their favorite Divas and Superstars. As usual, the talent was hungry and Melina had suggested Timsan's, a local Japanese steak house for a late dinner.

"You'll love this place, girlie," Melina smiled. "The food here is so good. We come here every time we're in Green Bay."

John rubbed his famous washboard abs with a fret.

"I don't know, babe. Don't know if I'm really feeling the whole sushi thing right now."

"But you love Tuna Rolls, baby," she pouted in her little girl voice.

"Usually but you know what happened last time," he recalled with an ugly grimace as he thought back to a recent time where presumed food poisoning had left him violently ill for days.

"That's what you get for buying sushi in a convenience store in between the Slim Jims and the slushy machine," Phil Brooks quipped.

The four laughed as they made their way through the front door. To their surprise, the restaurant was quiet and relatively empty but it was quickly obvious that they weren't the only ones who had left the Resch Center craving hibachi. At the large rectangular table in the center of the restaurant, the one where the chef cooked the meal in front of the customers, sat Mark Henry, Ron "R Truth" Killings, Anthony "Santino Marella" Carelli, Dos "Alberto Del Rio" Caras, Jr., Eve Torres, Gail Kim, ring announcer Justin Roberts, and John Cena.

"Hey guys, we didn't know you were coming," Gail smiled warmly.

"You know I never pass up a chance to eat at this place," Melina gave her friend a hug. "Room for four more?"

"You got it," Justin nodded, standing, summoning the waitress as they added additional space to accommodate their newly arrived friends.

Within seconds everyone was seated and Phil and Memphis, side by side, looked over a menu together.

"What's good here?" Phil asked.

"Everything," Mark responded, causing everyone to chuckle.

Memphis looked up at the empty seat directly across the table from her.

"Who's missing?" she casually asked.

No one had time to respond as the large frame of the Viper slithered its way to the chair. Memphis sucked in a breath and did her best to avoid her boyfriend's gaze.

"That was a pretty nice bathroom."

"Orton, you are growing soft in your old age, my friend," Anthony kidded. "What a nice bathroom…he's such a little girl."

Randy couldn't help but laugh.

"Shut up. I was just saying…"

His voice trailed off as he noticed for the first time that more people had joined the table. John Cena immediately picked up on the tension and cleared his throat. Secret relief ensued when the chef joined them as the waitress took John, Melina, Phil, and Memphis' food orders. There was quiet small talk and friendly banter at the table for the most part as everyone tried to ignore the big pink elephant in the room that was the dissension between longtime real life foes, Phil and Randy. Memphis sat quietly, downing iced lemon water after iced lemon water, secretly wishing it was Sake or at least wine. As the chef began preparing everyone's food, his culinary tricks and acrobatics entertained the masses and took everyone's minds off of what was going on at the table. Memphis munched on her fried rice and egg, giving Phil a nervous but reassuring smile.

"You okay?" she whispered in his ear.

"I'm good."

"You sure? I mean, I don't want things to be weird. I had no idea he was even going to be here so if you want to leave, I totally understand…"

Phil looked her in the eye.

"No worries, Dollface. It is what it is. We're both starving and we're already here so we may as well make the best of it. I'm not worried about Randy Orton."

She nodded and seemed to relax a little even as Randy stared at her from across the way. She was wearing a fitted, long sleeved black shirt, dark flared bottom jeans, and heels. The sides of her hair had been pulled back with the rest flowing in curls over her shoulders. She had makeup on and it looked great, blending in with her striking features, never too much. She was different from any other woman he had met. Randy preferred brunettes to blondes, especially darker complected, more exotic looking girls. And Memphis was gorgeous, encompassing the kind of soft and natural beauty that automatically turned heads. Looking at her, he couldn't help but shake his head as she and Phil were about the oddest couple he had ever seen in his life and he had seen some pretty strange pairings in his days. Phil's hair was still cut short and his beard, though surprisingly groomed, was full. Wearing jeans and a bright yellow tee shirt with some stupid writing on it, he undoubtedly looked like your average tattooed, greasy looking punk.

He didn't look like one of the most popular and respected professional wrestlers in the world and he certainly didn't look worthy enough to have a sexy and classy woman like Memphis Kramer on his arm. For the life of him, Randy couldn't understand what Memphis saw in him but it was more than unnerving watching them from across the table. Memphis' slim and svelte body was slightly turned towards Phil and she kept her left hand with that stupid Onyx ring in plain view, on his knee. His sleeved arm was casually draped on the back of her chair and the whole time they were engaged in inaudible, intimate conversation. Phil refused to acknowledge him and poor Memphis, looking nervous and uncomfortable only looked his way a few times.

"Ma'am, ma'am," the chef said to Memphis in an animated voice. "You like to catch shrimp? Think you can beat your friend?"

Memphis frowned, as she had been so involved with Phil that she had not paid attention to the hibachi tradition of the chef shrimp tossing to the various patrons at the table. Everyone was laughing and talking and having a good time. Eve had managed to lead the pack by successfully capturing three out of six tossed shrimp into her mouth while Ron had been 0 for six. Now the chef was asking Memphis to participate in the game.

"Oh no thank you," she forced a smile, putting her hand up. "I'll pass."

He smiled and respected her wishes before looking right at Randy.

"How about you, sir?"

Randy shrugged.

"Why not?"

There was a smug tone to his voice as usual and again he and Memphis' eyes met. The mutual gaze lasted a few seconds longer than the previous few and though the temperature inside the restaurant was warm and cozy, she visibly shivered as she looked away. The chef began the shrimp toss and with amazing coordination, weaving and bobbing to the left, the right, front, and back, Randy caught six out of seven shrimp leading to a loud cheer and standing ovation from his co-workers, the staff, and the remaining other patrons dining in the restaurant. He wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin before raising his massive arms in victory and taking a mock bow for his accomplishments. Everybody was clapping so Memphis awkwardly and reluctantly joined in, keeping an eye on Phil out of her peripheral vision as he just stared blankly ahead and sipped on another Diet Pepsi. The chef finished up preparing the food which was every bit as scrumptious as Melina had described. The gang dug in but Randy paid more attention to Memphis than his meal. He couldn't stop looking at her, something that did not go unnoticed by John Cena.

"What are you doing, man?" John asked in a low voice.

The table was large and rather noisy. With the two men being sequestered at the end, speaking in hushed tones, no one else could hear the details of their private conversation.

"What?" Randy looked right at him.

John rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Come on. You know damned well what I'm talking about. You…her," he subtly motioned over to Memphis' direction. "What's going on?"

"Nothing…yet."

"Yet? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Randy smirked.

"Inquiring minds want to know, huh? Well, I guess you'll have to just wait and see."

"Don't do this."

"Do what?"

"You're attracted to her."

"So what?" Randy admitted. "She's hot. What guy wouldn't be?"

Cena acknowledged his point.

"Is it more than that?"

"I've gotten to know her. She's cool. I like her."

"How much?"

"A lot," Randy sighed, stealing another glimpse her way.

John just shook his head.

"I knew it. I knew this mess would happen. Damn, Ran, you've got to reel it in, man. You can't do this. It's not good. Trust me, nothing good will come out of this if you try to make a move."

"You can't help how you feel."

"Look…"

"It takes two to tango. I know how I feel. If Memphis feels the same way and we both act on it…it is what it is, right? We're adults."

"Does she know how you feel?"

"I don't know."

"Does she feel the same way?"

"What's with the twenty questions? I don't know."

"Things are calm now. For once, your ass isn't in hot water with Vince. Everybody is getting along backstage. Memphis and Phil seem to be good."

"Your point?"

"My point is, let sleeping dogs lie. Don't stir the pot. Leave well enough alone. Don't mess everything up just because you want a piece of ass and just because you get the chance to piss off Phil again. It's not worth it, I'm telling you."

Randy shot John a sinister look.

"So that's it? That's what you think this is all about?"

"I…"

"You think I just want to sleep with her or get in another cheap dig at Phil?"

"Honestly? Yeah."

"I guess that's what you would think," Randy grumbled under his breath. "Anyway, it's none of your business and I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Fine," John raised his hands defensively. "This one is all you, bro."

"It always is," Randy chased his last swallow of beer with a drink of water.

The dinner lingered on for another half hour or so before the group began dividing the check. The wrestlers began to disperse slowly. John H., Melina, Phil, and Memphis began making their way to the parking lot as Randy stood to make one last trip to the men's room. Cena had been polite enough to summon the manager and express his and his colleagues' appreciation and satisfaction with the quality of the food and service they had received. Randy quickly used the bathroom and washed and dried his hands. He exited the door and as he did, the door to the women's restroom opened at the same time. To both their surprise, it was Memphis. The space was narrow and they stood still just looking at each other.

"Hi," she finally said, shifting her small weight from side to side.

"Hey."

"Good food, right?"

"Yeah."

Memphis nodded.

"You, um, you headed back to the hotel?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yes. I'm exhausted. It was a great show tonight."

"I saw your matches," Randy spoke in a low voice. "You looked good."

What did he mean she looked good?

"Thanks…well, um, I have to get going. Everyone is waiting on me…"

Randy leaned in to her personal space and put a large, tattooed arm against the wall.

"You look really beautiful tonight. I was just wondering if you wanted to…"

"There you are!" John Cena chirped loudly, clapping his huge hands. "Been looking all over for you, man. Should have known you were in the can. I swear, Memphis, this guy has the bladder of an 80 year old. Anyway, it was a great night with great food, celebrating with great friends but now it's time to hit the old dusty trail, don't you think?"

Memphis nodded.

"I'll um…I'll see you guys around. Have a good night," she said as she slipped between the two men and scurried off towards the rental car.

Randy gave John an annoyed look as soon as Memphis was out of earshot.

"Thanks, man," he muttered sarcastically. "You're a real cock sucker, you know that?"

John grinned.

"That's what I'm here for," he extended his arms as Randy angrily brushed past him.

John had known Randy for a lot of years and he had seen him make a lot of mistakes. The situation with Memphis was fast heading to be yet another one and with so much at stake and so many people in the cross fires, John was going to do all he could to stop it. But Randy was Randy…stubborn and persistent and John knew that even he couldn't stop that train, only prolong the time before the fiery crash that was bound to happen.


	37. Girl Time

"One more, girl! Come on, don't give up! You can do it!"

Memphis grimaced as she struggled to keep her form and pace. She had always been into fitness and dedicated a fair amount of time to the gym. Though she wasn't a wrestler, as a referee and especially a famous one on TV, she had to watch her figure. It was important not only to be thin, fit, and healthy but also have some tone and definition to the body. Hanging out with her co-workers had definitely caused Memphis to step up her workout routine. They were in Rosemont, Illinois right outside of the Chicago city limits. It was an early morning and after waking up from spending the night in Phil's arms, Memphis had agreed to join her girlfriends, Melina and Nattie Neidhart for an early morning workout. It was leg day, Memphis' least favorite and Nattie was affectionately known as the gym Nazi. She had designed their plan for that day and the last set of squats had been damned near impossible for Memphis to make it through.

"Oh my God, girl, you are killing me!" Memphis complained with a grunt as she toweled off and gulped down a swig of water.

"You'll feel awesome in the morning," Nattie promised.

"I'll feel sore in the morning."

"The fun isn't over yet," Melina giggled. "We still have two more sets of lunges to do."

"Don't remind me," Memphis rolled her eyes.

"You see why I like to do my cardio first?" Melina brought up. "Nat kills my legs. By the time I hit the bike or the treadmill, they feel like jelly."

"You two sound like a bunch of wimps. Grandpa would have eaten you alive inside the Dungeon," Nattie made quick reference to her grandfather, the legendary Stu Hart and his infamous training dojo. "Okay, ten minute break and then back to work."

Her partners felt a small measure of relief as they gathered around.

"You know what all this working out puts me in the mood for?" Melina's eyes twinkled.

Nattie met her gaze.

"Shopping," she answered the question. "And not just any shopping, shoe shopping."

"Amen, sister. You totally read my mind. Memphis, you in?"

"Yeah. I'll just shoot Punk a text when we finish up."

The two other girls exchanged glances.

"So how is that going?" Nattie inquired.

Memphis shrugged and smiled.

"Pretty good."

"You two still moving in together?"

"Yeah. I just settled the lease on my place in Long Island and we're slowly but surely getting all my household stuff and clothes out here. It's pretty exciting."

"That it is. I remember when TJ and I rented our first apartment together," Nattie fondly recalled of her WWE Superstar boyfriend known as Tyson Kidd. "We had already been together forever it seemed. We finally moved to the States and we were doing the whole FCW thing. Let's just say my dad was less than thrilled that his little girl was moving in with a guy but he got over it. My family loves TJ but anyway. It was so cool going to bed together every night and waking up next to each other every morning. We had our own little space and we were both working waiting tables prior to FCW so the few evenings we did have off together, I would cook him dinner, I'm talking about a four course meal. And I loved doing his laundry…God, it was so awesome being so domestic."

Melina grinned.

"Let me guess…the novelty of that grew old real quick."

"You said it. By the time we bought the house, I was like, 'Dude, wash your own drawers'," she joked.

"John and I actually lived together before we became a couple. A bunch of us in OVW rented a house in Louisville when we were training so he was my roommate at first. We were really good friends and it just turned into something more. By the time we got a house together in L.A. we were as comfortable together as an old shoe."

"I've never lived with a guy before," Memphis volunteered.

"No?"

"Nah…well, not officially or anything so this will definitely be different."

"Are you scared?"

"A little. I mean, you learn a lot about someone real quick when you live with them. Punk and I haven't been together that long but I think we'll be okay. Besides, considering how crazy the WWE scheduling is and how his rehab is going, most of the time we aren't together anyway."

"Phil is a nice guy," Melina commented. "You two look so cute together."

Memphis blushed.

"He is pretty cool. I think I'll keep him."

"You guys do seem like kind of an odd couple, though."

"Opposites attract. I mean, if you look at us on the outside, we really are different, I suppose. But we were friends first. We're a lot alike on so many other levels. We just get each other and it's nice because I feel like I never really had that before in a relationship."

"I see the way he looks at you and it's really sweet. You bring out a different, softer side to him."

"Punk is a sweetheart. You have to really get to know him. And he keeps me laughing like every second we're together."

"He has really been there for you since the beginning, hasn't he?" Nattie asked.

Memphis nodded.

"It was rough my first few months in the WWE. I'll be the first to admit that. Sometimes I don't know what I would have done without him."

Nattie and Melina exchanged glances.

"Yeah, we still feel so awful about that," Melina sheepishly admitted.

"It's okay. Water under the bridge."

"I know but you're a really cool, sweet person and none of us gave you a chance at first and that wasn't right."

"You two just ignored me," Memphis winked. "That's nothing compared to what Randy Orton put me through."

"Randy can be hell on wheels," Melina shuddered. "I felt so bad for you."

"Randy did some awful things and he should be ashamed of himself for taking it too far but a lot of stuff he does for attention or just out of pure boredom," Nattie defended. "That doesn't make it right and I'm for sure not making excuses for the guy. It's just that he's not as bad as he appears to be or wants people to think."

"I've had my run ins with him but for the most part he left me alone, maybe because he and my John are friends. But I've seen him in action before and he has gone off on me a few times. It's pretty scary to watch the guy go from zero to sixty in like five seconds. He's like a ticking time bomb. One minute he's calm and the next he's blowing up. Maybe you don't see it as much as other people, Nattie. From the minute you joined the company he seemed to have this quiet respect for you. He likes you."

"He's a good man, a little misguided but nevertheless a good soul underneath it all," Nattie surmised.

"He sure has been a lot nicer in the last few months," Melina mentioned. "Memphis, it's like after you two squashed whatever was between you two, he became a different person. No more torturing the locker room. Your friendship seems to really calm him down."

"Me?" Memphis seemed surprised. "I don't think so."

"Mel does have a point."

"Randy and I are cool but I think he chose to make amends with me for the same reason he chose to change his behavior…it was the right thing to do. I think he knew he was a major asshole and that it was getting old. I think even he got tired of it. Him being a better person or trying to has nothing to do with me."

"I think he likes you," Nattie put it on the table.

"What?"

"I kind of see it too," Melina agreed.

Memphis tried to laugh it off.

"You two need eyeglasses. You're totally imagining things."

"I'm serious and if you think about it, it's not too hard to believe," Nattie pointed out. "You're a very pretty girl and he's a guy. You're around each other all the time. God knows he has had more than his fair share of the ladies but after a while, the whole groupie thing sort of blends together. You're smart and funny and you understand the whole wrestling lifestyle therefore you two can bond on a different level."

"Nat, come on. I'm with Punk or are you forgetting that?"

"No. It's not about Phil. He's your boyfriend but if Randy has real feelings for you, something like that is not going to get in his way, I can tell you that much."

"Randy and I are just friends. I do not have feelings for him and I don't think he is into me either."

"Don't shoot the messenger," Nattie treaded. "I just sense this weird electric sexual tension between you two sometime."

"Nattie, that is just silly."

"I don't think so. And it probably comes from the fact that you both used to hate each other. It's a thin line between love and hate and now that you're cool it's like sometimes there is this super intense aura between you two."

"Trust me, there is no aura. Yes we did hate each other at first and then when we made up, it was still kind of awkward at times but now Randy and I are fine. How I get along and interact with him is the same way I do with you two or Mike or anybody else."

"I've known Randy for a long time, even longer than Nattie. For the majority of that time, he has been a real jerk. I've only see him try to be a good guy two times, now with you and a few years ago with Samantha."

Memphis was quiet for a minute.

"Yeah, he told me about her. It was a pretty serious relationship. She sounded like a nice person."

"Oh Sam is great. Everybody loved her and not just because Randy acted halfway decent in her presence. She was so sweet and down to earth and just different. I think he really dug that and in the end, it ended up intimidating him and scaring him so he kept making bad choices to screw it all up."

"When Randy finds himself, he'll find the right girl," Memphis said quietly. "When he does, I have no doubt that he'll mature and be a great boyfriend for her. But he still has a long way to go and even if he didn't, that girl is not me."

"Don't get me wrong," Nattie took a seat nearby on one of the workout benches. "I like you and Phil together. You two make a good couple but you're just the kind of girl Randy needs in his life. Sam was perfect for him but just like Melina said, he messed that one up. He needs trust and love and friendship…hell, we all do. It's not like he's gonna find that with some ring rat on the back of his tour bus. Look, I know Randy and I know him pretty well. All I'm saying is don't be surprised if he comes on to you."

"Nat…"

"It might happen so be prepared."

"I don't think it will but thanks for the heads up, I guess."

"What are you going to do if it does?" Melina asked.

Memphis looked away.

"I…I don't know."

"Babe, I know you're with Phil and you're way into him but could there be any chance, even a small one, that you have a crush on Randy?"

"No. No," she repeatedly defensively.

"I'm not trying to…"

"I know but Phil brought it up to me, too. I know his drama with Randy goes way back even before I came along and some of that makes him feel a little insecure, I believe. God, I hate that. I love Phil and I'm happy with him and I don't want him feeling like Randy Orton is just gonna come in and swoop me away or something. It's not like that. Honestly, I don't see him trying but even if he did, I would never go for it. Randy might be used to getting what he wants but I am not that easy."

"Good for you," Melina nodded. "Anyway, we're just talking. You're probably right. I'm sure everything is going to be okay. You and Phil are going to move in together and be very happy and you and Randy are going to remain just friends and everything will be fine."

"It will," Memphis agreed in a shaky voice.

"Okay, ladies," Nattie clapped her hands. "We can save the gossip for shoe shopping and lunch. We have a workout to finish."

Melina groaned as they stood. Memphis stretched out her legs and tried to ignore the conversation that had just been held. It was ridiculous. She and Randy were just friends. Sure he had been kind of weird in Catering that day and even weirder that night in Green Bay in the restaurant but he had never been blatantly fresh or inappropriate with her. And that was the last thing she wanted. They were just beginning to be real friends and that was something Memphis didn't take lightly. She truly valued his friendship and the time they spent together. She did not want anything to ruin it. Sure he was a great looking guy…no one was disputing that fact but it wasn't like she was attracted to him or anything. Just thinking about it made her want to think of something else. Taking a deep breath, she turned and walked back towards Nattie and Melina. Even though her legs were aching, she had never been more ready to get back to a workout.


	38. Truth Versus Denial

The city was Los Angeles, the perfect setting for the WWE to host a party celebrating the release of a series of new company related video games and action figures. Vince McMahon was starting to focus more than ever on introducing the WWE to the mainstream media. The press was out in full force and so were the Divas, Superstars and other significant employees. Wearing a simple but body hugging white dress that stopped well before her knees in order to show off her smooth and shapely bronzed legs, Memphis Kramer stepped out of the limousine onto red carpet where a dozen or so photographers and reporters were waiting. She still wasn't quite used to the Hollywood treatment and the first couple of flash bulbs caused her to blink and make hideous faces but after the first few minutes, she took it all in stride. On her arm was her boyfriend, Phil Brooks. Though all on camera personalities were mandated to attend the huge event, special and extra attention was being given to Memphis that night for her FHM photo shoot. The issue had just hit the stands and to celebrate, the WWE had made sure that a life size portrait of one of the shots was put on full display of the entrance of LoftSEVEN, the trendy location where the party was being held.

"This is so embarrassing," Memphis whispered to Phil through the clenched teeth of the most forced smile she had ever smiled. "I can't believe I wore silver strappy shoes. I look like a stripper."

Phil chuckled.

"Relax, Dollface. They've already seen you in your underwear. Nobody is gonna care about a tight dress and hooker shoes."

"Stripper shoes, thank you very much and thanks for the downgrade, by the way. You are so out of the running for Boyfriend of the Year."

"Strippers and hookers, gypsies, tramps, and thieves…it all sort of starts to run together after a while. My mistake," he stopped her and squeezed her hand a little tighter. "You look absolutely stunning tonight, a real classy broad that I am ecstatic to have on my arm. I know I wasn't your biggest cheerleader with the whole FHM thing but you followed your heart, you did a great job and I am very proud of you. I mean that. I love you, Memphis."

Tears clouded her eyes, mixing in with the growing nerves.

"Thank you. I love you, too, and way to get back in the running for that Boyfriend of the Year prize," she winked.

They turned and were greeted by a reporter working the party for the WWE's official website.

"Okay, WWE Universe we have with us tonight on the red carpet, the sexiest referee in all of sports entertainment, Memphis Kramer and she is joined by RAW Superstar and commentator, CM Punk. Welcome, Memphis and Punk, it's great to have you here tonight."

"Thank you so much. It's really great to be here," Memphis answered.

"Pleasure," Phil went right into character. "But I'm really sort of offended because you didn't introduce me as sexy. So I'm quite miffed and as a result, I am going to chill over here in the corner while you talk to my girl."

Everyone laughed as Phil began a private conversation with Kofi Kingston and his wife. It was his subtle way of leaving the spotlight and letting his girlfriend enjoy the moment she had earned. He winked at Memphis and that gave her all the confidence she needed.

"Memphis, you are rather new to the WWE, tell the WWE Universe what it feels like to be here at such an event."

"It is absolutely amazing. Outside of being in the ring actually officiating matches, this is one of the best parts of the job. The WWE offers the best in sports entertainment programming but there are also the video games and the magazines and the action figures and music and movies…gosh, it just goes on and on. I am so proud of what this company is doing and so proud to be affiliated with them."

"You mentioned officiating matches and that of course is what you do and you do it so well, by the way…"

"Thank you," she giggled.

"…You are making waves and headlines as really one of the first female referees in the business. How does it feel to be a pioneer and how hard is it controlling those matches?"

"Um, you're too sweet for the compliments but um, it's really cool. Being a referee was I guess an odd dream for a little girl growing up, I mean, most people would expect for me to want to be a Diva but this is all I ever wanted to do. I tried college and the nine to five but this business is my true passion and I worked hard for a long time to get where I am now. It is so fun and so rewarding but it's hard work. My co-workers are pretty awesome and yeah sometimes they give me a run for my money but it's my job to maintain law and order inside that ring and I feel like I do a pretty good job."

"From the courtroom to the wrestling ring, what a journey…"

"I'll say," she laughed. "But it was so worth it. No regrets."

"And now you are gracing the pages of FHM in a stunning and sexy pictorial and you also give an in depth interview about your journey to the WWE and life as a referee. You look absolutely gorgeous in that magazine and of course here tonight. Giving a quick spoiler, in the interview you hint at being in a relationship and various pictures have been posted on the Internet of you smooching with WWE Superstar CM Punk. You two did walk the red carpet hand in hand tonight and he called you his girl…would you mind confirming what we already know?"

"And what's that?" she played coy.

"Are you and CM Punk an item?"

Memphis smiled and looked over her shoulder.

"Why don't we ask him?" she beckoned her boyfriend over.

"No comment," Phil volunteered.

"Get over here," she said with another laugh as he walked over towards them. "Punk, I've just been asked if we are a couple."

"And what did you say?"

"I said they should ask you."

He gave a smug shrug and grabbed her hand.

"I'll never tell…"

They were being playful with the media but out of the corner of her eye, Memphis saw Randy Orton finishing up an interview. Their eyes met and his lips immediately turned into a smirk as he watched them. Not missing a beat, Memphis leaned up and gave Phil a kiss on the mouth.

"That means yes," she stated.

"Well, Punk, it looks like you're the luckiest man in America, maybe on the entire planet. You've got a beautiful girlfriend and you're looking pretty dapper in that suit. We're not used to seeing you all cleaned up. Is this a new style, perhaps a new CM Punk?"

Phil kept in character.

"Same guy just a different outfit."

"So there you have it, folks. Congrats, Memphis on FHM. You both look great tonight. Have fun and we'll see you inside."

Memphis and Phil walked inside and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"We survived."

"All in a day's work, Dollface."

"In case I forget to thank you later, thanks for being an amazing guy and for dressing up in a monkey suit and answering stupid questions all night. It means a lot and I love you for it."

"You owe me a lot of sex later on tonight."

"That will gladly be arranged," she eagerly responded with twinkling eyes.

He squeezed her hand a little tighter as they made their way further into the room among their colleagues. They worked the scene and made rounds, mingling amongst the other guests. Temporarily separated when they talked to different people, Memphis was approached by the big boss man himself.

"Miss Kramer," he gave her a hand shake.

"Mr. McMahon. Hello."

"You look lovely."

"Thank you."

"I just wanted to speak with you personally and not only offer congratulations on the FHM issue but also say what an extraordinary job you have been doing with the company altogether. We are all tremendously proud and happy and I hope that you keep up the good work."

"Thanks," she said, in awe. "I appreciate the kind words. I am very happy to be here and promise to keep giving it my all."

"I know you will, now if you will excuse me."

"Of course."

"Have a wonderful night."

"You as well."

He walked away and she suppressed the urge to scream and dance in the middle of the crowded room. Memphis was on cloud nine. Everything was going perfect. The FHM decision had turned out to work in her favor. She was continuing to climb the ladder of success at work. She was being accepted and making new friends. Her relationship with Phil couldn't have been better. It was so incredible how everything had come together and was working out. Grinning, she turned around and bumped into someone.

"Well, well. We meet like this again."

Memphis half smiled.

"Are you gonna get over it this time or do I get to look forward to another TSA lockup as a result of the Viper's twisted revenge?" she shot back.

Randy smirked.

"A truce is a truce. I'll live."

"Good. How are you tonight?"

He shrugged.

"Another one of Vince's dog and pony shows."

"I think it's awesome. I'm having a great time."

"I saw," he teased.

She frowned.

"It felt like you were watching me with Punk on the red carpet."

"I was."

Memphis let out a breath.

"And it also…"

"What?"

"I don't know. Listen, I've been meaning to talk to you about something that was kind of bothering me. I don't know how to say this but the other night at the Japanese restaurant, it felt really weird. It was like you kept staring at me all night and later on by the bathroom…God, I hope this doesn't sound stupid or whatever but I felt like maybe you were trying to come on to me."

She laughed nervously and felt even more uncomfortable when his expression did not change. Memphis was a strong woman, normally in control of her life and her emotions but now this thing with Randy, whatever the weird dynamic was, had changed her as a person.

"It's not stupid," he looked right at her.

"Wha…"

"I was hitting on you."

Memphis was shocked at his honesty.

"What? Randy…"

"Look, I like you. I was a jerk at first but we've gotten past that. We've talked and gotten to know each other and hung out and stuff. You're a cool person. And you're beautiful. How could I not be attracted to you? I just wanted you to know how I feel and see if you feel the same way."

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she pulled him aside away from other ears.

"Are you insane?"

"Is that a trick question?"

"Randy, I am not joking around right now. I have a boyfriend. I have a serious boyfriend who even though you don't like, I happen to love very much. And we are practically already moved in together and we're happy and you need to let it go."

"You're gonna look me in the eye and honestly tell me that you're into that guy and you feel nothing for me?"

"Yes. I _am_ into Phil and I _don't_ have feelings for you, I'm sorry."

Her voice was full of conviction but she had not made eye contact with him, not even for a split second.

"Okay," he casually shrugged it off.

"And you don't have real feelings for me either. You're just bored, Randy."

"That's not true."

"Whatever," she cut him off. "I don't want to hear it. Look, things are going right for me at work and with Phil and just everything. I am happy. And yeah, spending time with you has been great. We've had fun and at the same time, we have shared a lot of personal stuff with each other. I do consider you a friend and that is not a word I throw around lightly. I value that relationship with you and the last thing I want to do is lose it but that is exactly what is going to happen if you don't stop this nonsense. You and I have a strictly platonic relationship and if you can't handle that, then maybe we shouldn't talk at all."

"If that's how you feel."

"Because I can't be around you if things are going to be weird."

"Understood."

"And you cornering me in front of bathrooms and telling me you want me is definitely weird."

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? I am not sorry how I feel and I'm not even sorry that I told you but if it makes you feel that uncomfortable, then I apologize and I will back off."

She shot him a skeptical look.

"You give me your word?"

"I swear on everything."

"Thank you," she breathed a sigh of relief. "Listen, I am going to pretend this conversation and all the crap in Green Bay never happened. We go back to how we used to be and never bring this up again, okay?"

"If that's what you want."

For the first time she looked at him and her whole body shook involuntarily.

"It is," she replied quietly.

"Everything alright over here?" a third party asked.

It was Phil.

"Hey babe," Memphis forced a smile. "Everything is good. Um, Randy and I were just chatting."

Phil turned to his arch nemesis.

"Randal," he said curtly.

Randy didn't even bother to hide his sarcastic chuckle.

"Phil."

The tension was thick.

"Well, this is…awkward," Memphis nervously laughed again.

"I was on my way to the bar to get a drink. I might try some Diet Pepsi…with an extra kick," Randy rubbed his beard, still eyeing Phil.

"Try not to choke on it," Phil kept the staring contest going on.

"Okaaaayyyy. On that note, I'll see you around, Randy. Enjoy the party," Memphis said quickly, ushering her boyfriend away.

"He's such a classy and charming lad, that Randal," Phil said sarcastically.

"Why do you two have to have a damned pissing contest whenever you're within breathing distance of one another?"

"You know why. I don't like the guy."

"That's not exactly breaking news," she huffed. "Anyway, it's over now. He's gone and it's a party and we're stuck here anyway so we may as well make the most of it."

"Agreed."

"I'm serious, Punk. I don't want to cause a scene or ruin the night."

"That dude gets under my skin but I'm not going to let it ruin the rest of the evening."

"Thank you."

"Or jeopardize my booty call tonight."

She couldn't help but smile.

"You're an idiot…and the word booty should never come out of your mouth…or any grown man's mouth for that matter."

"You know you love me," he put his arm around her and they walked to the other side of the room.

At the bar, Randy Orton downed his shot and smiled a satisfied smile to himself. After seeing that forced red carpet makeout session, he had revealed his feelings to Memphis and she damn near had a nervous breakdown in front of him. She had denied feeling anything in return, had gone on and on about her love for Phil and made him promise to drop the situation. Randy had agreed. He had been unsure of how she would react but he knew Memphis was nowhere near ready to confront her own true feelings. He could deal with that and he could hold up his end of the bargain. Sooner or later she would cave…just like they all did. Not that she was like any other woman. He liked her, he actually respected her. Part of it was conquest but something else inside him really felt something real and special for her. He always had. And considering she couldn't even look him in the eye anymore, something told him that deep down the feeling was mutual.


	39. Bad Company

"Shit!" Memphis yelled as she hit her hand roughly against the side of her large roll on luggage piece.

Then she nearly tripped over the smaller one. A strong gust of wind blew through the parking lot of the Izod Center. The ride from Long Island to New Jersey was a mere 62 miles but the traffic leading to the Throgs Neck Bridge was killer and had made the trip an hour longer that it should have been. Memphis was staying in New York, spending another few days off packing up the rest of her personal belongings to be later shipped off to Chicago. She had driven her own car, a newer model Audi to East Rutherford for the house show. There would be another live event the next night, then a RAW, followed by two days off and a stint of house shows and finally another RAW broadcast throughout Canada.

It had been a busy few days. The downside of it all was not getting to see Phil as much. He was still busy rehabbing his hip injury which meant he only traveled once weekly for Monday nights and of course any Sunday there was a pay per view. He was still wowing the WWE Universe with his quick wit on the commentating mic and charming his beautiful girlfriend. But the move was on track and pretty soon they would be cohabitating together in Illinois. Memphis was surely missing Phil helping her with her bags. As she rolled them across the parking lot, she could see in the distance a long line of fans who had assembled near the wrestler's entrance. Normally arena staff did their best to keep those sections roped off but somehow the legion of admirers had made it through. Though she adored the WWE Universe, she wasn't in the mood for an impromptu meet and greet.

"Miss?"

Memphis turned around to see a man approaching her wearing an official Izod staff pass.

"Yes?" she pushed her sunglasses on top of her head.

"You're the referee, right?"

That was her.

"Yeah. Hi."

He motioned over to the entrance.

"Sorry about that. Just wanted to let you know there is an alternate entrance around the corner if you don't want to deal with that. Some of the wrestlers are going in that way signing autographs and stuff but if you want, I can show you the other door."

"Please, if you don't mind."

He nodded and walked a few yards with her before pointing to a nearby loading dock.

"If you walk just right under there, it's a service elevator. Take it up to the top floor and that will put you in the back of the building by the conference room and locker rooms."

"Awesome. Thank you so much," she smiled as she followed his directions.

"Have a good day," he called out.

She rounded the corner just in time to see the elevator and someone stepping in ahead of her. Judging by the large frame and the tattoos, it didn't take long to figure out who it was.

"Randy, is that you?"

He looked over his broad shoulder.

"What's up?"

"Can you hold the elevator?"

He kicked his own bags in before physically stopping the doors from closing. Trying her best to keep control of her belongings, breathless she ushered inside the confined space. It was small and stuffy and resembled more of a transport for cargo but at least it would get them quickly and safely inside the building for work.

"I take it you didn't feel like posing for pics with Grandma either."

She playfully rolled her eyes.

"It's not that. It's…"

"What?" his blue eyes teased.

Memphis sighed with an embarrassed giggle.

"I love the fans but yeah now is not the time. I didn't feel like posing for pics with Grandma."

Randy chuckled under his breath as he pressed the button to take them to the top floor. It had been a week or so since the WWE party in L.A. when he had confessed his feelings and she had subsequently freaked out, turned him down and made him swear to never bring it up again. He had obliged, biding his time. He knew what he felt and it was powerful. He liked her. Over time they had become good friends. She was gorgeous. And every interaction they'd had since the unfortunate night one when she had bumped into him, had been laced with an air of sexual tension. He wanted her and he wanted her bad. Deep inside he suspected the feeling was mutual and was more than willing to wait. Their shoulders were almost touching as the tiny car headed upwards. A few seconds later there was a violent bump, then a stutter, then nothing but silence.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Randy grumbled as he began pressing random buttons.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"We're stuck."

Memphis' eyes widened.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"I know I heard you but I am praying that you're kidding."

"Sorry."

"Dammitt," she cursed. "Where is the emergency phone thing?"

Randy looked around.

"I don't see one. Don't think there is one."

"Nuh-uh. There has to be one. I thought all elevators had one."

"Elevators for people maybe but this is for small freight, I think. That guy was just trying to do us a favor."

"Some favor," she put her hands on her hips before digging her phone out of her bag. "Great!"

"What?"

"No service. Check your phone."

Randy did.

"Nothing."

"Oh my God! What are we going to do?"

Randy shrugged and took a seat on the floor.

"What else can we do? We wait."

"But Randy! What if no one finds us? What if they don't know where to look? What if no one tries to use this elevator? How are we gonna get out of here? What if…"

Randy laughed out loud.

"You need to relax."

"Relax? We are stuck in an elevator, we may not get out, we might miss work, and in case you haven't noticed, there is like no air in here."

Randy shrugged.

"Then quit flapping your gums and using up what is left of it."

Her mouth fell open as she shot him a mean look even though she knew he was only playing.

"You are such an ass sometimes."

"You may as well sit down," he recommended.

Not knowing what else to do, she followed his suggestion.

"I can't believe this day," she groaned out loud. "First the traffic in the Bronx, now this."

"Your finger is bleeding," he noticed.

Memphis looked down.

"Damn."

"What happened?"

"I hit it on my bag."

He reached inside his own gym bag and found a clean bandana that he used to wrap his watch in while he worked out. He pulled it out and took her hand in his, carefully wrapping her injured finger.

"I think you'll live," he announced when he was done.

She bit her lip as she looked up at him.

"Thank you, Randy."

"You're welcome."

They were quiet for a moment.

"This sucks."

"It does but it'll be okay."

"Aren't you just full of optimism?"

"You scared?" he teased with a half smile.

"Scared? No. I just don't like this."

"Like what?"

"Closed off spaces. This is creepy."

"They will find us."

"How do you know?"

"We're two of the biggest attractions in the company. People will notice we're not around and they will start to look. Eventually the kid that directed us down here will say something and they'll figure it out."

"I hope so," she said in a worried tone.

"I take it you have never been stuck in an elevator before, have you?"

"No. You?"

He nodded.

"Once. A few years ago overseas in a hotel."

"How long did it take for them to get you out?"

"Two hours."

"You're not helping the situation," she mumbled. "God, this is bad."

"Your complaining is starting to hurt my feelings," he joked. "I know this is an undesirable situation but is my company that bad?"

"Sorry. It's not you, I just don't like this situation and if the worst happens and we're stuck in here all night and miss the show, people are gonna know why and I don't think Phil will be very happy to know that you and I were stuck in an elevator together."

Randy smirked.

"Ah, Phillip. And how would he find out anyway?"

Memphis gave him a knowing look.

"Like Superstar Scoop wouldn't just love to break that story."

Randy knew she had a point. Superstar Scoop was pro wrestling's most infamous and controversial online dirt sheet. In addition to a website, they had a podcast and often sent their staff to arenas and airports to hassle the Superstars and Divas for tidbits on everything from their personal lives to the latest ongoing backstage drama. The talent hated to see them coming and interactions often led to confrontations or at least a terse "no comment" or the occasional "fuck off". It was Superstar Scoop who had printed how Randy had first tortured Memphis when she had come to the company. For years they had been diming him out on his bad behavior and subsequent multiple punishments from Vince. The dirt sheet had been particularly interested in the real life romance with referee Memphis and C.M. Punk.

"Yeah, they do seem to like you," he pointed out.

"You should talk. Yeah, they'll be all over that one like flies on shit."

They were quiet again for a while as they waited. 15 long minutes later, help had still not arrived. Randy reached into one of his bags and pulled out a brochure that he began to thumb through.

"What do you think? Maroon, champagne, or crystal blue?"

"What is this?" Memphis frowned.

"I'm gonna buy a Bentley when I go home this week. I know what I want as far as the engine, the style, the amenities. I'm sure about everything except the color but I narrowed it down to these three. What would you pick?"

"A Bentley? Really, Randy?"

"What?"

She laughed out loud.

"Nothing, it's just that I don't want to picture you as the typical rich athlete who has to go out and buy all the cars and the rims. It just seems, I don't know…silly."

"You think I'm feeding into a stereotype?"

"Well yeah. What other vehicles do you drive?"

"I've got an Escalade, a Hummer and a bike."

"See what I mean? You're home, what, two, three days out of the week, maybe? You're a single guy and you need three vehicles and a bike? Come on. I just think it's a waste of money, if you ask me."

"Maybe. I admit I do splurge sometimes."

"Sometimes?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't always use to do that, you know. Believe it or not, up until about a year before I met Sam, I was living in a cheap ass two bedroom apartment by the airport driving a pickup truck. I was frugal as hell."

"You?"

"Hell yeah. I'm talking buffet eating, coupon shopping, drinking Dr. Thunder instead of Dr. Pepper, the works," he made them both laugh out loud. "I was a penny pinching motherfucker."

"I believe you but it just kind of seems odd. I don't picture you as the type bargain shopping at the local grocery store."

Randy's smile faded slightly.

"I did because of my dad."

"What about him?"

"Let's just say I learned about financial responsibility the hard way by watching my father make a lot of mistakes with money. I didn't grow up the way you and a lot of other people think I did."

"Cowboy Bob Orton is a legend. He was one of the top wrestlers in his day."

"He was and he did make a lot of money but he also lost a lot of money. He went through bankruptcy a few times and my mom is a nurse so a lot of times it was just her salary holding it down for them and three kids. It was rough."

"Wow. I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"Shit happens. We made it though. I feel bad for my little brother, Nate though. That poor bastard was always in my hand me downs."

Memphis chuckled.

"You're the oldest, right? That must have been a perk. No hand me downs."

"No hand me downs but I wore jeans until my ass and thighs damn near burst out of them."

"Stop," she grinned.

"I'm being serious. And when it was hot, guess what? Mom cut those jeans into shorts."

"Why is that an adorable image I have of a young Randy in a makeshift backyard ring doing the Orton pose in too tight jean shorts?"

"Ha ha."

"What? Don't be pissed that Cena totally stole your gimmick."

"Hey, I wore them better."

They looked at each other and shared a genuine laugh. She liked him when he was like that, when he was just a regular guy. It made her feel comfortable and genuinely cherish their newfound friendship.

"Seriously, I'm sorry to hear about all that, you know, your dad and the money and stuff. I guess I shouldn't have made that joke about stereotypes. I really put my foot in my mouth."

"It's cool. You didn't know. Besides, we got over it. It could have been worse. I had good parents and I love and respect them a lot. I'm not ashamed of anything."

"Crystal blue."

"What?"

"For the exterior of the Bentley. I like the blue, maybe do a champagne color in all leather on the inside."

Randy checked the brochure again.

"Good choice," he replied.

Silence fell upon them again and the minutes turned into over an hour. Memphis hugged her knees to her chest and put her head down. She only closed her eyes for a minute but she nodded off and when she woke up she found herself sitting dangerously close to Randy Orton.

"Sorry," she apologized as she accidentally brushed into him and knocked one of his bags over.

A bottle of Johnson and Johnson's baby oil toppled onto the floor.

"You almost destroyed my most prized possession," he pretended to scold, picking it up.

Memphis made a face.

"Iiiieeewww. I do not want to know what you're doing with a big old bottle of baby oil."

"How do you think I get so slicked up before my matches, genius?"

"Oh," she said sheepishly.

Randy grinned.

"What did you think it was for?"

"Nothing," she squirmed.

"Yeah right. You were thinking I use it to beat off."

"Randy…"

"Not a bad idea, though."

"Shut up!" her cheeks turned bright red. "And by the way, you use way too much of that stuff anyway."

"You think?"

"I know. I can track your trail to the ring by following the grease spots," Memphis kidded.

"You are a real comedian today."

"Blame it on the lack of air."

She stretched her long arms and took off her hoodie as it was getting warm. Her earring got caught in the cotton material and he reached over and helped her out. She thanked him quietly and smiled before clearing her throat loudly.

"So who are you refereeing tonight besides the Sheamus and Kane match?" he inquired.

"Um, Nattie versus Melina, believe it or not and Miz against Evan Bourne."

"Three matches, that's something."

"Tell me about it."

"The other refs must love that one."

"They still give me heat but what can you do?"

"They're just jealous but they'll come around."

"And if they don't?" she looked at him.

"Then fuck them," Randy said matter of factly.

Her lips curled into a smile.

"Yeah…fuck them."

"Too bad you're not officiating my match. I like when you do."

"Randy…"

"You're good at what you do," he cut her off. "I'm serious. Your matches are smooth. The other night Jack Doan was refereeing for me and Miz and we were running late on time and he totally fucked it up by telling us on camera. I always go back and watch my matches and sure enough, you can see the guy talking into his mic and everything. Very sloppy. I don't like that. You…you're good. You're smooth and the fans just seem to dig it way more when you're out there. I'm serious. Vince can save you for last and no matter what, you're still gonna get like one of the biggest pops of the night."

"It's amazing. This is like a dream. The fans, the lights, the people I work with, the travel, FHM…it's all so surreal. Every day I pinch myself to make sure it's not a dream."

"But it is a dream," he said softly. "Your dream."

She looked up at him and smiled shyly.

"Yeah, um, I guess it is. Thank you for saying that. I've worked hard so it's nice to have my peers recognize and respect that. It means a lot. This isn't new to me, the whole wrestling thing. I've been a huge fan all my life. Dusty Rhodes, Harley Race, Junkyard Dog, Andre the Giant, people like your father…those are legends and guys like you and Cena, you're the new legends. It is an honor to get in that ring with you every night."

It was a real and genuine moment between the two, one they greatly appreciated. They stared into each other's eyes, not even caring anymore about the dire circumstances of being stuck. The only thing that took them away from the moment was when the doors unexpectedly opened and there was a mechanic, the employee who had let them use the elevator, an arena supervisor and former WWE Superstar turned producer Pete "Billy Kidman" Gruner.

"Told you they would be here," the younger guy grinned.

"Thank God," Pete breathed a sigh of relief. "I didn't know what the hell happened to you two. Are you okay?"

"Everything is fine, man," Randy stood and gingerly helped Memphis to her feet.

She gave Randy a warm and shy smile.

"Everything's great," she reiterated.

"The show couldn't go on without our biggest draws," Pete added, winking at Memphis.

The supervisor apologized profusely before Pete and Memphis walked together towards the dressing room chatting away. When everyone was out of sight and earshot, Randy dug into his pocket and pulled out a crisp one hundred dollar bill.

"Did you get what you wanted, Mr. Orton?"

Randy smiled smugly.

"And then some. Thanks, kid."

The employee took the money.

"I told you if you got in that elevator it would probably stick. I know that referee chick is hot and all but you must really like her to go through all that," he said as he walked away.

Randy was left feeling quite satisfied with himself. He genuinely liked Memphis but it was all about proper timing. He needed to get her alone and just be himself in order to charm her. All he needed was the perfect opportunity. And when he got to the Izod Center and saw the private entrance taken over by the fans, he got one. He knew the service elevator existed and asked to use it but the employee warned him it would be out of order. Randy was defeated and preparing to sign autographs when he saw Memphis struggling behind him. Then he got an idea. He bribed the employee to convince her to get in the elevator and he hoped things would fall into place and they did. And Randy didn't feel bad about it. In fact, he felt good. Randal Keith Orton was a man who got what he wanted and this was no exception.


	40. Unfaithful

**_Author's Note: This chapter is not for the weak at heart...or anywhere else. Consider yourself warned..._**

The WWE Canada tour was wrapping up. The finale would take place in Calgary Alberta. A sold out live event had been held on Friday in Toronto and the following day, Saturday was filled with appearances, fan events, and media obligations for nearly every Superstar. Sunday was scheduled as a travel day and a time for the talent to attempt to regroup. For Memphis, the tour had been great. The shows had been amazing and she had been able to referee at least two matches every night. That Saturday had been nonstop for the WWE's most beautiful official. She had appeared on several local television shows, done four radio interviews and sat with a magazine and newspaper reporter. She had never done that much media work at once. It was a challenge but it was fun. The downside was being away from Phil all week. She missed him terribly but at least they would meet up on Sunday night in Calgary and the plan was for her to go back to Chicago with him and spend the much needed three day break together as a couple. They spoke by phone and Skype often. Most of the media Memphis did on her own but she did have one appearance with The Miz and another with some of the Divas. It was fun and exhausting. On Saturday evening, some of the wrestlers had decided to get together for some relaxation.

Anthony "Santino Marella" Carelli, Stephen "Sheamus" Farrelly, Randy Orton, Jake "Jack Swagger" Hager, Kevin "Alex Riley" Kiley Jr., Barbara "Kelly Kelly" Blank, Josh Matthews and Memphis Kramer had gotten together first for dinner at Harbour Sixty Steakhouse. The atmosphere inside the restaurant was amazing and it was nice hanging out among friends. Everyone was in an unusual mellow and good mood. It was nice to just let loose and enjoy some time off. Laughter and conversation was plentiful at the large table. The Applewood Smoked Salmon had been to die for and after the meal, the crew enjoyed front row seating watching the Toronto Raptors taking on the Miami Heat. It was a welcome change to be the spectator for once. Memphis was on cloud nine. That was the comrade she had hoped for and dreamed about when she first started with the company. Now it was real.

During dinner she had only had one alcoholic beverage. She had sat comfortably between Randy and Barb. During the game again she had sat next to Randy and also Kevin. Randy's torturous bad boy behavior and his crossing the line hitting on her had been all but forgotten. He and Memphis were on a clean slate and the hour stuck inside the elevator in New Jersey had only brought them closer. He was a friend and how she got along with him was just the same as how she got along with the other guys on the roster. Throughout the course of the evening they had talked and laughed and had even shared some popcorn during the game. As time grew later, she did not want the night to end. She'd had so much fun with the group. It was the best night of her life so far with the company. The ride back to the hotel was prolonged due to the heavy volume of traffic leaving the Air Canada Centre. Barb, Josh, and Tony had ridden in Stephen's rental car while Memphis had caught a ride with Jake. Kevin sat in the front leaving Memphis and Randy in the back. The weather was cold outside and it took a long time for the car to heat up. The conversation inside the vehicle was sparse and casual but the mood was still one of contentment evidenced as Memphis and Randy flashed each other a warm smile. It was shortly after eleven when the tired gang reached their destination at the Soho Metropolitan Hotel. Everyone said good night, leaving Randy and Memphis behind.

"You want to grab a drink?" Memphis nonchalantly suggested.

Randy looked at her and shrugged, nodding in agreement. Recognized by the friendly wait staff of Hemisphere's, the pair was ushered in to a private corner table. Memphis slid her coat off and Randy helped her, draping it over the back of the chair.

"You want a shot?" he asked.

She playfully rolled her eyes.

"No shots tonight. Do you like wine?"

"Never really got into that stuff," he admitted.

"Try a glass with me," she summoned the waiter over. "Two glasses of Cabernet and also an assorted cheese plate, please."

Within a few minutes, their order had been delivered. Randy took a sip and made a face.

"It doesn't get better," he shook his head.

"Try some cheese with it. It brings out the flavor. Besides, when have you ever had wine?"

"Sam loved it. She used to try to get me to drink all different kinds but it never caught on. I'm sort of a beer and hard liquor kind of guy, in case you hadn't figured that out."

"I sort of had a clue," she teased.

"It's not like I'm a lush or anything."

"I'm not judging," she leaned back in her seat. "I'm no stranger to Jack and Vodka among other things."

Randy raised an eyebrow.

"Funny as hard as you work for the shows and with your law background and now being Mrs. Straight Edge, it's kind of hard picturing you as the party girl."

"Ha ha," she frowned, his dig at Phil not lost on her. "I wasn't a party girl by any means. Pretty much everything I have ever done whether it was law school or working the Indy promotions, I put my whole heart and soul into it. It wasn't easy by any means. It always seemed to be some kind of issue or another. Most of the time I was broke or there was a problem with whatever bum I was dating at the time. And I remember always having these feelings of not being good enough, like I was chasing unattainable dreams. Sometimes it really got to me and it's not like I'm proud of it but I buried many a sorrow at the bottom of an empty bottle."

Randy tapped his fingers against the table.

"You didn't mention any of that in your FHM interview."

"I was embarrassed. This is new for me, letting people into my private life like that. I'm still having a hard time figuring out why the public is so interested in me. I don't think I'm ready to let that guard down just yet, hell, I don't know if I'll ever be able to."

"Understandable."

She bit her lip and gave a coy smile.

"You read my FHM interview?"

He shrugged.

"Why not?"

"I don't know…it just kind of makes me feel weird. It's not a bad thing but…"

"I get it. It's about being real and letting people in and as much as they want that, half the time either they don't want to see or just can't handle the truth."

"Well yeah."

"I feel you. That's why I never did the DVD or book thing."

She took another sip of wine.

"Yeah, you're one of the biggest guys in the company and like the only one not to have a DVD or book out."

"My life ain't all fucking hunky dory and I admit that is mostly my own fault. I can accept that. I've made a lot of bad choices, used some really poor judgment at times. I've lost a lot because of that. I'm changing or at least I'm trying to but it's rough. People look at that and pick apart every aspect of your life like they have some right to do that. I guess I'm not ready to face it yet. It's been ten years and I feel like I have another ten or so left in my career. I feel like I have a long way to go as far as being a better man. One day I will tell my story…I think it's important but right now is not the time."

Memphis completely understood his candor.

"The interview wasn't too brutal and neither were the ones we had this weekend. I guess I'm waiting on the big one where they ask about my most embarrassing moment."

"Which is?"

Her face turned bright red.

"I am not telling you that."

"I'll tell you mine and I have a few," he offered.

"Let me guess, someone went to roll you up in the ring and your trunks got pulled down and everybody saw your ass."

Randy had some more wine.

"That happens to every wrestler. In fact that has happened to me several times and 20,000 people seeing my bare ass was not nearly as bad as the time the damned things came completely down and they saw my dick."

Memphis cringed.

"Oh my God…"

"True story. Google image it if you don't believe me but that's not the worst thing."

"I am afraid to ask."

"It was my first International tour with the WWE, I'm talking years ago and I had to use the bathroom and I get in there and I am pissing like a race horse and we hit this godawful patch of turbulence and I fall against the door, which swings wide open making me fall on the floor peeing myself in front of the entire coach section."

Memphis giggled.

"You are quite the exhibitionist."

"What can I say? Now I told you mine so you have to tell me yours," he prodded.

"Okay," she finally sighed. "It was college and I was dating this guy and we were hanging out and went to a store and I had these too small track shorts on and he thought I had a string hanging from them so he yanked it but it turned out that it was attached to my bloody tampon."

Randy laughed so loud he almost choked.

"Now that is fucking classic, definitely one for the ages."

"I am still mortified over that one. I wanted to die. And hell no, I will never cop to it in an interview."

They laughed again and kept talking, enjoying meaningless chit chatter and each other's company until they noticed that the establishment had shut down and the staff was just being polite allowing them to linger behind.

"Damn, it's after one," Randy commented as he looked down at his watch.

Time had gotten away from them. Though he'd only had two or three sips of his wine and her first glass was still half full, they had gotten lost in the moment and in each other. Randy settled the tab and left a more than generous tip as the two stood. He helped Memphis back into her jacket and she shuddered as they touched. Slowly she turned around and found herself staring into the hypnotic and mesmerizing sky blue eyes of the Apex Predator. He was such a beautiful man, so sexy that she felt paralyzed. Something happened in those minutes that they stared at each other, something that would change them forever.

"We should get going," she said softly.

He silently agreed and walked her out to the elevator. Both had rooms on the tenth floor at opposite ends of the hall. The elevator seemed to take forever to reach their destination and although the car moved smoothly, Memphis once again felt like there was no air, that she was trapped by and with the Viper. An aura of weird and intense tension had come out of nowhere. It was tangible just like Nattie and Melina had described but only now she was seeing it for the first time. Finally they arrived on the tenth floor and the doors opened. Memphis' room was first and she waved the key card in front of the door signifying the green light to come on. For some reason her hand trembled as she opened the door. Randy was still standing there. He gave her one last look before turning and heading to his own room. He reached the door and stopped, noticing that she was still looking at him. Even from the short distance he could tell that her heart was pounding and her breathing was heavy. Walking back towards her, he went and stood right in front of her. She looked up at him and bit her lip before walking backwards a few steps into the room. Randy followed and the door closed behind them.

There was no turning back then. Randy grabbed her by the arm and pulled her roughly towards him. It was what he had been wanting for since the first time he had ever laid eyes on her. His lips hungrily captured hers and though there was mild resistance at first, soon she was kissing back. He loved tasting the remnants of wine in her mouth. In fact, wine had never tasted so good. He couldn't stop kissing her and she reciprocated his eagerness as she struggled to pull off his leather jacket. It fell to the floor but she wasn't done, not satisfied until his shirt joined it. There he was, Randy Orton, the subject matter of every woman's wet dream standing shirtless in front of her. Lust filled his blue eyes, darkening them and suddenly she felt afraid. It was wrong. What was she doing? He wasn't supposed to be there. Neither was drunk but they had gotten swept up in a moment and now things were definitely going too far. She had a boyfriend that she loved, who loved her. She couldn't be in a hotel room like that with Randy Orton.

He sensed her fears and hesitation. She recoiled a bit but he responded by running his hands all over the perfect roundness of her ass. His lips attacked her neck before pulling her coat and shirt off. Underneath she wore a tank top and bra. He slid the first strap down with his teeth, nipping at the exposed flesh of her shoulder. Without a second thought, his growing impatience got the best of him as he pulled it over her head. With one quick motion and a single hand, he unsnapped her bra and let it fall off her. God, she was hot. Her breasts were natural, firm and just the right size. He placed his palms on either one, squeezing the warm skin. He smiled to himself as he felt her nipples harden underneath his touch as he rolled them between his fingers.

Memphis let out a near guttural moment the minute his tongue found her breasts. He latched onto her left nipple, suckling it softly before alternating with a lick and gentle bite. When she was about to go crazy, he blew on it, sending her senses into erotic overdrive. He repeated the same actions on the right side and Memphis felt like she might faint. Nobody had ever made her feel like that and her jeans were still on. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, dropping her on it as he kneeled over her. She said nothing verbally but her dark eyes beseeched him to stop what he was doing. He responded by kicking off his socks and shoes. The next thing she heard was the clink of his belt being undone. Then he was left in a pair of black boxer briefs with a huge bulge in the middle that left nothing to the imagination.

Randy could almost see the fear in her eyes. It only made him desire her more. He smothered her with kisses again, this time lowering his head until he was playing near her belly button. He felt the contractions of her toned abdominal muscles beneath him. One finger grazed over the center of her black panties and instantly he felt how wet she was. There was a pool between her thighs and he had barely gotten started. He rubbed her through the soft material, using it to stimulate her clit. She writhed back and forth and he grabbed her hand for assistance. He wanted to watch her pleasure herself just like she had done that night in the gym with Phil.

His tongue suddenly lashing against her pussy was driving Memphis over the edge. She had been embarrassed for him to see her so naked and exposed but any sense of shame went quickly by the wayside. It was so much intense pleasure that it almost hurt. He ate her out with expertise, using his lips, tongue, and fingers to work what could only be described as pure magic. Memphis tossed her head back, enjoying the foreplay but she could feel him staring at her. Looking down she noticed he was watching her every facial expression the whole time he was orally pleasing her. She wanted to give into embarrassment, she wanted to turn away but she couldn't. A part of her loved the fact that he was watching her and it made her want to keep watching him doing such delectable and wicked things to her body.

He finally extracted his two fingers from inside her. They were practically dripping with sweet honey that had come from her depths. Without warning he smeared the juices all over her lips. Like a wonton slut, she desperately lapped up every bit of the intoxicating liquid. And that's when he knew he had her right where he wanted her. He stood and pulled down his underwear letting his rock hard cock spring free. It dripped with precum and he dipped his hand inside her again to use her juices to lube him up. Randy stroked himself a few times and watched intently as his lover practically salivated at the sight. He guided her head towards his length and closed his eyes as she sucked him. It was truly a beautiful thing watching her slob his dick, watching her little heart shaped mouth drive him wild. He ran his fingers through her chestnut brown hair, massaging the scalp with the tips of his thick fingers as her head bobbed up and down.

Memphis didn't want to go down on Randy but she couldn't help it. He had the most beautiful penis she had ever seen. Everything about him was exquisite. As he stood there as naked as the day he was born, he looked like a sculpted Greek god or least a photoshopped dreamboat with his super tanned skin and gorgeous arrangement of body art. Every crevice, every muscle was perfect, especially his thighs. Now they were both naked and knee deep in foreplay that was only getting more intense by the second. Even though it felt like heaven, she knew it was wrong. But she was in control. Memphis could and would stop it at any time. It was still salvageable because they hadn't had intercourse yet. That was still Phil's sacred, special place and as long as she didn't give that to Randy, as long as she didn't let him enter her, it was okay.

Randy smirked as he grabbed her around the middle and flipped her over. He could tell she wasn't expecting it. He had her on all fours and with a mischievous smile, he wanted to give her something he was sure she wasn't getting back in Chicago. He kissed the cheeks of her ass and let his tongue dip between them before slipping a single digit in her backdoor. She whimpered and tensed, unprepared. He knew Memphis would be self-conscious but he kept the pleasure coming. The new sensations felt so good that she couldn't stop him even if she wanted to…and stopping was the last thing on either person's mind.

Randy rolled her on her back and Memphis knew what was coming next. This was it. She had to stop it now. He came towards her but she couldn't speak. Instead she put her right hand up and pushed him away. It was the only thing she could do to resist but he ignored her and seconds later, his throbbing manhood stabbed into her center. He was long and big and extra hard and even with her increased wetness, his size stretched her sensitive walls. After a few thrusts, he pulled out completely, smirking down at her, quietly daring her to make the next move. The feeling of being physically fulfilled, the feeling of extreme pleasure was like a drug that after only a few minutes, she had become hopelessly addicted to. Letting out a groan, she reached behind and grabbed the cheeks of his ass, raking her nails across his flesh as she pushed him into her.

With his right index finger playing with her clit, Randy fucked her fast and hard. He could hear and feel how wet she was. He put one of her feet against his shoulder and just watched as she thrashed and moaned beneath him, eyes rolling back in her head. He pulled out and before she could protest again, he flopped down on the bed and guided her on top of him. She rode him steady, leaving a slick trail of sheen with every movement, finally leaning back and giving him a bird's eye view of their hot action. She felt better than he had ever imagined and all he wanted to do was have sex with her all night in every position possible, blow his load inside her, then hold her in his arms all night.

With one hand on her breast and one hand between her legs, Memphis kept up the staring contest as she wildly pumped the Legend Killer. The sex was like nothing she had ever felt or participated in before. It was intense and passionate and all around incredible. She had never come that many times in one night ever. Closing her eyes, all she could think about was the moment, what she was feeling, what they were doing. She couldn't allow herself to think about Phil or even what the next day would bring. It would all be over in the morning.


	41. Breakdown

Memphis frowned and stirred in her sleep. Her head turned first to the right, then to the left. Finally her eyes slowly opened. It took a few minutes to focus almost like she was hung over without the alcohol but the minute she was fully alert, she sighed. She was used to waking up in strange places, in random hotel rooms. That was part of the job. She felt a chill in her bones and shuddered. They were in Canada in winter and the weather was known to be brutal at times. Memphis pulled the thin sheet up to her neck and for the first time it dawned on that she was naked. She had never been the type to favor sleeping in the nude. In fact, the only time she ever did that was after a night of lovemaking.

Her heart pounded as she sat straight up. Within a few seconds, everything came flooding back to her. She remembered the night before, how fun and awesome it had been with her friends. She remembered hanging out with Randy in the hotel bar. They'd had a great time just laughing and talking but something about that conversation had been different. Being with him had made her feel differently. It had strangely felt like a date of sorts. And for a few hours she hadn't thought about work or real life or her boyfriend, Phil Brooks. All that mattered was her time with Randy and how wonderfully surreal it felt. Even though it was just a chat and an unfinished drink between friends, something nagged inside her to stop it. She knew she should have listened to that voice inside that she had been ignoring for so long. The one that told her she should not trust herself with Randy Orton.

The situation had spiraled dangerously out of control. A friendly conversation, a lot of laughs, subtle touches and stolen glances. It was all so innocent but the moment they had headed upstairs, something had changed for Memphis. She was foolish enough to think that one night wouldn't matter. It was funny, neither had spoken a word during the entire time they'd had sex. Still it was the most wildly erotic, pleasurable, intense moment of her life. And the morning after had brought a new day filled with regrets. She could feel the warm, soundly sleeping body resting beside her. Memphis was used to waking up enveloped in tattooed arms but no amount of hoping, praying, or wishful thinking could make Phil magically appear next to her. It was reality and the cross she had to bear was that she had been unfaithful to the man she loved. Some moments in a life went forgotten while others remained permanently embedded in a memory. One night, one decision was going to change everything. Glancing down at her unclothed body made Memphis want to throw up. She slipped out of bed, frantically searching for her underwear. In her haste to recover her belongings, she bumped her toe against the desk in the room and yelped out loudly in pain. The commotion stirred her partner. Randy frowned and sat up before stretching and yawning.

"Hey," he said.

She was in the process of stepping one leg into her panties and she was still without a bra. The missing inhibitions from the previous evening had returned with a vengeance.

"Stop it!" she snapped. "Don't look at me!"

Randy bit his lip and held back a smirk. He lowered his head as she hurried up and got dressed.

"Can I look now?" he asked, raising one eyebrow when she had her jeans and tank top on.

Even with tussled bed head and smeared makeup from the night before, Randy still found her terribly sexy. He wanted nothing more than to snake his arms around her and go for round two.

"You need to go," she avoided his gaze, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Memphis…"

"I'm serious, Randy! God! Please leave!"

He swung his long legs over the side of the bed and let the covers fall exposing his toned naked body. Instantly Memphis recoiled and turned her head.

"It's not like you haven't seen it before," he said casually putting on his underwear and jeans.

Tears stung her eyes as she looked at him for the first time that morning.

"Do you think this is funny?"

He walked over towards her.

"Come here," he said softly, reaching out for her arm.

Memphis backed away, pushing him.

"Don't! Goddammitt!"

In the moment, Randy had just been enjoying the sex. His mind had wandered to how she would react the next day. Would she give in to what they had felt? Would she end things with Phil? Would she remain in denial? Would she freak out? In being awake for less than two minutes, Randy could safely assume the latter.

"Look, I think we should talk about what happened last night."

"I don't want to talk about it," she cut him off.

"Listen…"

"It was a mistake, okay? A horrible mistake. And I wish I could say we were drunk cause maybe then it would be an excuse but we have no excuses, Randy. Okay? There is no excuse whatsoever for last night."

He looked on as she went about the room, practically tripping over her own feet as she grabbed her suitcase and began randomly stuffing items in it.

"It wasn't a mistake, not to me," he quietly mentioned.

Memphis shot him a look of pure disgust.

"Don't start that shit…"

"What shit?"

"The lies and the charm and all the other bullshit you use to con women into bed. I can't believe I fell for it."

Randy folded his arms.

"Oh so I conned you last night? Gee, Memphis, it sure didn't take a lot of arm twisting on my part. You seemed more than willing."

"I hate you," she bit her lip. "You make me sick. I regret the day I ever met you, ever talked to you."

She was being impossible. She was moving about the room like she was lost, on the verge of tears, angry and sad, half on her way to a seeming nervous breakdown. Rolling his eyes and sighing, he walked over to her, his bare feet kicking at the accumulation of clothing that had piled up on the floor.

"Memphis, look at me," he commanded in a firm tone, using both hands to stabilize her small shoulders. "Last night happened. We can't pretend it didn't and we might as well face it, talk about it. You know I think you're beautiful. I've been attracted to you for a long time. But it's more than that, it's way more than physical. There has been something between us for a long time…"

"No," she fought to squirm out of his grip.

Randy wouldn't let her.

"You're not gonna run away, you're going to stand here and listen to me. You know it's true," his voice grew low and husky as his blue eyes bore a hole straight through her. "There has always been this chemistry we've had and last night it just exploded. We couldn't have helped it if we wanted to, not that we wanted to and you damn well know it. It may have been wrong or whatever but we couldn't resist, we couldn't stop it. We had sex and it was great and now I want to talk to you about what happens next."

She squeezed her eyes shut and willed his words to just go away. She couldn't handle it.

"I told you, last night was a mistake. It should not have happened. I am sorry I let it happen. And it will never happen again. I know you're into the whole bed hopping thing and increasing the numbers for your various sexual conquests and I might just be another notch in the bed post…"

"You're not. You know that. Memphis, you know I have real feelings for you."

"Shut up! Just stop it! I am going to forget last night ever happened and I suggest you do the same. Don't think about it or speak about it…ever! I mean it, Randy! I don't want anyone to know!"

"You mean Phil?"

She tensed at the mention of his name.

"Especially him. He was right. Being your friend was a mistake. Unless it is strictly work related, I never want to talk to you, in fact, I never want to see your face again. Now get out!"

"Memphis…"

"Get out! I am not kidding around! Get out before I scream at the top of my lungs because I swear to God, I will do whatever it takes to get you out of my face right now!"

Randy finishing dressing and grabbed his jacket.

"If that's what you want…"

She followed him to the door and slammed it as soon as he was on the other side. She hastily bolted it and turned around, trying to get her breath. Her eyes fell upon the bed, its sheets still tussled from their night of passion. Just seeing it sent her straight to the trash can where she violently vomited. When she was done, she managed to brush her teeth and finished getting dressed. Most of the Superstars were due to catch the same flight to Calgary in three hours. Memphis knew she couldn't be on that plane. She packed and put on a pair of oversized sunglasses as she left the hotel without checking out. A waiting cab took her to the airport where she rushed the Air Canada gate. Her hands shook as she tried to gather her driver's license, passport and boarding information. Her voice trembled but somehow she managed to get on an earlier flight. Memphis rushed to the gate and her heart sank when she saw Kofi "Kingston" Sarkodie-Mensah already waiting. He smiled and gave a polite wave to which she only nodded and turned her head as to avoid a full blown conversation. A half hour later they were boarding and she was relieved to take the very last seat at the rear of the plane next to the restroom. They took off without incident as she tried to relax.

Memphis closed her eyes. She tried to think about work, anything but no matter what, her thoughts always wound up back on Randy and/or the night before. What had she been thinking? God, she hated herself so much at that moment. She thought about those blue eyes and that smirk and she became so angry that she gripped the armrest, desperately wishing he was near just so she could slap him. Then she thought about how much fun they'd had at dinner and it actually made her smile. Nervously, she played with her hands and that's when she felt it. Looking down, there was the Onyx ring, the gift from Phil, still on her left fourth finger. She hardly ever took it off except for work and she had no recollection of removing it the night before and putting it back on the next morning. That meant she had worn it the whole time she had been having sex with Randy. Touching it, tears sprang to her eyes but she didn't cry. Instead she broke out into a loud fit of hysterical laughter. The woman across the aisle gave her a confused and annoyed look but Memphis didn't care. For that one moment she wasn't a celebrity or WWE referee, she was simply a woman on the edge wearing a huge coat and sunshades, laughing erratically for no apparent reason in seat 42F. Her mind raced, flashing forward to random thoughts. Some instances brought tears, some brought laughter, some brought anger. But when she thought about that night, the actual sex, it was undeniable how turned on she had been, how he done things to her body that she never imagined possible. She liked it. She had enjoyed it. She could still feel his hands between her thighs stroking her, his breath against her neck…

"Are you okay, Miss?"

Memphis looked up and saw the flight attendant standing over her. The plane had landed and was parked safely at the gate in Calgary and every passenger had exited but her. Looking like a deer in headlights, she stood, grabbed her laptop and carryon and rushed down to baggage claim. Once her items were retrieved, she hailed a taxi that took her straight to the arena. Being backstage at a venue snapped her back to the reality that was her life. It made the consequences for her actions seem that much more dire. How could she do what she had done? How did she expect to get away with it? How would she be able to avoid Randy Orton forever? Would life ever be the same again? Rounding the corner to the female dressing area, Memphis dragged her bags behind her. Her chest and head hurt. She literally felt like there was no air. She knew it was only a matter of time before she got sick again. Stopping, she leaned against the wall and prayed for just a moment of normalcy. She was losing her mind. Doubled over, she closed her eyes and mumbled a prayer. Then she heard a voice. That voice.

"Memphis?"

She slowly looked up. No! Please God. She wasn't ready, not yet.

"Punk…"

His eyes narrowed.

"Everything alright? You don't look so hot."

Memphis looked him in the eye and the guilt nearly took her off her feet. He loved her so much and she had hurt him, betrayed him in the ultimate fashion. Now, more than ever, it was real.

"I, um…I had a bad flight. And my head hurts and I'm so tired and uh, I, I missed you so much," her voice broke.

She started to cry and he gave her a reassuring smile as he held her in his arms.

"I missed you, too. It's all gonna be okay, Dollface. I'm here. I'm right here."

And she broke down in his arms. A few feet away, she felt a pair of blue eyes staring at her. He saw her interaction with Phil, he saw the look on her face. Their eyes met and immediately she knew that he knew. It was true. His worst fear had come true. Sighing, John Cena shook his head. He had begged Randy not to but his friend would not listen. Now the mess had been made and the aftermath was sure to be explosive.


	42. Fortunes Untold

Randy Orton exhaled deeply as he lowered a set of weights to his chest. Slowly he pushed them back up until his tattooed arms were straight in the air. Without a workout partner, he had decided to tone it down a notch and only attempt to bench press 300 pounds, a number well below his personal best. But he continued his routine, wrestling with a much heavier weight…the one on his heart. It had been a week since he had given into temptation and conquered what had been his greatest conquest. He had coveted and damn near obsessed over Memphis Kramer from day one and finally he'd had her…all of her. The actual sex had been all fun and games for him. Getting laid was his favorite leisure activity and in a world where he was used to getting everything and every woman he wanted, the cat and mouse game with Memphis had been a welcome deviation from the usual boredom of easy skirt chasing. He had wanted her for a very long time and was sure the feeling was mutual, despite her resistance and protests to the contrary. She had played hard to get, right down to the very act of physical consummation. And when they had finally given in, the moment had been downright explosive.

Afterwards, they had collapsed sweaty in each other's arms. Within seconds it seemed that Memphis had been out like a light. Normally that was Randy's cue to make his exit, pass out himself, or at the least go make himself a sandwich but with Memphis it had been different. He had laid there and watched her sleep. He had watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. He had traced the soft and feminine line of her jaw with his index finger. The blanket had haphazardly fallen away from her svelte body and for a long time Randy just admired how gorgeous and sexy she was. Then he had gingerly pulled the sheets up to cover her body. Smoothing the hair from her face, he had surprised himself and done the unorthodox, the unthinkable and placed a sweet kiss on top of her forehead. Then had had held her close in his arms as she never moved an inch, obviously succumbing to long built up physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion. He had fallen asleep just like that, content and satisfied. At that one moment, it became clear that this was no longer about sexual attraction. He had real feelings for this woman and he hadn't felt like that about anyone since Samantha Speno.

The next morning had brought about a new mood, one filled with regret, guilt, and shame. She had freaked out, which he half expected. Memphis was emotional. Whether she was angry, happy, sad, or scared, you knew how she was feeling because she didn't mind letting you know. When he looked into her eyes, he saw fear. He never let it show but it touched him. He felt bad that she felt so bad but comfort from Randy had appeared to be the the last thing that she wanted. Part of him wanted to protect her, tell her it was going to all be okay but the reality of the situation was that it was not okay. And until she faced her real feelings and made a concrete decision about who she wanted to be with, nothing was going to be okay. Randy grunted and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. Working out was a necessary evil. He had always taken great pride in sculpting his physique and it often brought about an hour or so of release from the problems of the real world. But the Memphis thing had greatly distracted him and on the last repetition, he struggled with the massive weight.

"Maybe you should have stuck with 100 pounds, you light weight," came a voice followed by a large set of hands that safely spotted him. "You could always work out with the girls, they should be in any minute."

Randy rolled his eyes as he sat up and reached for a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"And once again, Super Cena saves the day."

John smirked at his friend.

"Somebody's got to. And you're welcome, by the way."

"What are you doing here? What do you want, man?"

John shrugged.

"It's a gym. I came to work out just like you did."

Randy looked him right in the eye.

"Whatever."

John watched as Randy guzzled some water. He acted nonchalant as if it was just another day at the office. Eight whole days had passed and Randy hadn't breathed a word. John had managed to keep his own lips sealed. Instead he had had just sat back and peeped the situation. And what a situation it was. Life behind the scenes at WWE was always like a soap opera but now more so than ever. The others hadn't noticed but John Cena had a unique insight into what was about to come the messiest love triangle in backstage history. He had noticed the change in Memphis. She seemed constantly nervous and distracted and a little sad. She looked uncomfortable around Phil and avoided Randy like the plague. The only place she seemed to be in her element was inside the ring. Phil, preoccupied with his physical rehabilitation, appeared to be oblivious. And then there was Randy. There hadn't been much change in his behaviors but John had taken notice of the quiet way he was always studying Memphis, especially when she was in the company of her boyfriend. It was tense and awkward and nothing good would ever come of it.

"You were expecting something else?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Nope," Randy said casually, as he polished off the water bottle.

John watched as Randy began racking the weights and a week of biting his tongue finally sent him over the brink.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Don't play stupid with me. I've been waiting for you to tell me what's going on. I gave your ass a week and yet you haven't said a word. Been walking around like nothing is going on."

"What are you now, my Old Man or my therapist?" Randy sarcastically chuckled.

John pulled his friend by the arm.

"None of this is funny and if you think it is, you're gonna be in for a real rude awakening. You're playing with people's lives, man…"

Randy looked down at the hand grasping his forearm and roughly pulled away. Anyone else and that would have been immediate justification for an RKO or least a punch in the face. But he and John went way back and shared a bond that was unique to them. Each let the other one get away with things no one else could and this was one of them. But one look in John's blue eyes and Randy knew that he knew.

"So. How long have you been sitting on all this?" Randy folded his arms.

"Long enough. Ever since I saw the immediate aftermath of your handy work last Sunday. I was one of the first people to arrive in Calgary. I know most of you guys took the same flight in. Well one person took an earlier plane and when she got to the arena she was completely frazzled to say the least. Looked like she was having a nervous breakdown or something. I looked at her and all I could think about was all the conversations you and I have been having for months. That time I saw her leaving your bus the day you two decided to squash that stupid beef going on between you. That night at the Japanese steak house. I saw it. Dammitt, I saw this shit coming for miles. I tried to talk some sense into your stubborn ass but you didn't listen. That's the problem, man, you never listen. For a split second I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, that this new positive change inside you was real but I took one look at the way that girl looked at Phil and bust out crying and I knew. I knew what you did."

"That's none of your business, not that anything like that has stopped you before," Randy began in a monotone voice. "But it is what it is."

"It is what it is?" John repeated in disbelief. "Are you silly? What is that supposed to mean? That's a copout and you know it. It's a weak one at that. How could you do it?"

"Memphis and I are adults. We both wanted it. I didn't force her or anything like that, if that's what you're getting at."

John shook his head.

"Of course not. I know that, numb nuts. But you should have stopped it. You should have never put yourself in that situation to begin with."

Randy shrugged.

"Things happened. What can I say?"

"You're right. Things happen. In the moment, it must have been fun. You finally got a piece of the sweet, unattainable ass you've been salivating after for months. And in the back of your mind, you're gloating because you know you got the best of Phil Brooks once again. Sleeping with Maria just wasn't enough, was it? That stung a little bit but it really didn't count because they were broken up at the time. You had to one up it. You slept with his girl and you're on cloud nine about it and you're eagerly waiting for the moment when he finds out, and trust me, he will. But the thing is, then it's not going to be all fun and games."

"Memphis doesn't want anyone to know. She made that more than clear the morning after. I respect that. So if you think I'm gonna go blab to Phil just to piss the guy off, that's not the case. I'm not gonna kiss and tell, not this time."

Randy seemed serious and genuine and for that, John could at least breathe a small sigh of relief.

"Well at least you're doing one stand up thing in all of this."

"Thanks for the support there, buddy," Randy muttered sarcastically.

"Look, we've been friends for a long time. I love you like a brother but you know I'll call you on your bullshit in a second. What you did was wrong. It was more than wrong. It was seriously fucked up. You've done enough to this poor girl. Memphis is a strong one but she's human. There is only so much more that she can take. Using her like that is just downright cruel, even for you."

"I'm using Memphis?"

"Cut the crap, man."

"I know I haven't always been the best guy. Through it all, you've always had my back and I appreciate that. A lot of times it was like you were the only one who didn't see me as some ruthless, heartless monster…"

"Cause I know deep down that isn't the real you."

"You're right. In the past with women, I was an asshole most of the time. I've played games with a lot of hearts, used a lot of people but uh…this time, it's different."

John narrowed his eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"I've always been attracted to her. You know that. You know why. Yeah, at times it may have been about the challenge of actually getting her into bed or getting a dig at that loser boyfriend of hers but when it comes down to it, it's just like I told you in Green Bay. I really like Memphis. I care about her. That means more to me than any challenge or any slap in the face to Phil."

John looked at Randy and saw that he was being sincere, which made it even scarier.

"Okay, I'll bite," John sighed. "You have real feelings for Memphis Kramer."

"I do."

"Okay. Now what? What are you going to do about it? And just what do you think is going to happen?"

"I don't know. I'm not a fortune teller," Randy snipped. "It's up to her now."

"Randy…"

"She's just fooling herself with Phil. She doesn't love that guy. He's safe. She doesn't want to lose that friendship. She's scared. When she finally realizes that, when she finally decides to own it…"

"Then what?"

Randy just smiled.

"Then I guess we'll just have to see, won't we?"

With that, Randy threw his towel at John and walked away. John just bit his lip and cursed. Things had just gone from bad to worse.


	43. Bathed In Guilt

Memphis let out a long sigh as she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She pulled back the curtain and turned on the faucet, letting the water run for a little while so the temperature would be just right. She had always liked for her showers to be piping hot. Seconds later when the mirror began to steam, she slowly disrobed and climbed inside the tub as the water sprayed onto her. She leaned forward and let her face get wet. Putting her hands on the tile wall in front of her, she closed her eyes. It had been nearly two weeks since the incident, since she had made the biggest mistake of her life. And every day since, regret had plagued her.

At times it felt like a dream but the reality of the matter, it was anything but. That first day after, waking up in bed next to Randy Orton, hastily fleeing to Calgary and culminating with having to look into a pair of eyes that loved and trusted her with all his soul. It was like a slap in the face to Memphis about just how cavalier, selfish, and foolish she had been. It was hard to look herself in the mirror anymore because she was now living a lie. Her game plan was to pretend that none of it had ever happened but no matter how hard she tried to forget or ignore that night, the memory somehow continued to live on in the back of her mind. She thought about it at the damnest of times, reliving it over and over. In her logical mind, she knew that she was to blame. She was a consenting adult who had been swept up in the moment with a man she had been secretly attracted to for a very long time.

But in her flurry of emotion, it was so much easier to pin the blame on Randy and make him the villain once again. It was a role he was good at playing and a part of her hated him. In a perfect world, he would just disappear but once again, reality had other plans. She saw him at work four days a week, every week. To his credit, he had left her alone. He hadn't tried to approach her and most importantly, he had kept his mouth shut. For that she was very grateful but it was still of little consolation. So she did her best to avoid him. The luck of the draw had spared her having to officiate his matches as of late but she knew time would only be on her side for so long. Any other time, she kept her distance and the few random times they had found themselves face to face, Memphis had simply avoided eye contact and walked away.

It was one thing to deal with her own guilt and the possibility of running into Randy Orton but the worst thing about the situation was her boyfriend. It would have been easier if he were an asshole or a liar or a cheat. But the fact of the matter was, he was none of those. She was the cheat. Phil Brooks was a good man…loyal, dedicated, sweet and above all faithful. Whenever he looked at her, she saw the utter happiness and devotion etched on his handsome face and it tore her apart inside. He thought the world of her. The real Phil behind the sarcasm and razor tongue was shy, sensitive, and cautious about showing his innermost feelings but Memphis had broken down that wall. They had trust now, or so he thought so he was free to love as passionately and deeply as his heart so desired. He was the type of man who wanted all or nothing from his partner and she had given in to his wishes, as evidenced by all of her personal belongings that now lay scattered about in his Chicago home. She had forced herself to be "normal" around him so he wouldn't get suspicious and when he did notice and question any change in her behavior, she blamed it on the stresses of work and her recent move. He had been pushing for her to leave New York as soon as possible and when she had finally done so, he had been ecstatic. It had always been difficult for him to receive warmth and affection in personal relationships with the opposite sex. He had trust issues and often thought he was unworthy of love or that those offering it to him didn't really mean it. But Memphis was different and now she was his. All his.

After her sexual dalliance with Randy, Memphis had been given a lot of time to think. The mind was a funny thing and paranoia consumed her. At first it had more to do with getting caught but after a few days passed, she had become obsessed with the possible physical consequences. She'd heard that Randy once had caught an STD from a stripper. Memphis convinced herself that she had contracted something awful from him. Though the WWE tested the on air talent quarterly for infectious and communicable diseases, the fear that he had something was very real. In the moment she had been caught up and foolish and a condom had been the last thing on either of their minds. She had been on birth control for years and it had always proven to be reliable so she hadn't really worried about pregnancy. She had gone to her gynecologist in Long Island and had been screened for every Venereal disease there was a test for, including HIV. All the test results had come back negative, which had put her mind at ease. Of course Phil was a man and the two had always shared a healthy and plentiful sex life, so she could only put him off for so long.

The days following her indiscretion, she had used every excuse in the book to get out of making love to Phil and had been thrilled when her period had come on, buying her an extra week or so. She just couldn't bring herself to do it. How could she? How would she be able to look in his eyes knowing she had betrayed him? How could she allow him to touch her, enter her, knowing his arch nemesis had been there, had invaded Phil's special place just weeks earlier? Memphis went through the motions of washing her hair and body. When she was finished and completely rinsed off, she stayed there, leaning underneath the shower head and letting the water run across her face. The droplets blended in with the tears of shame that fell from her eyes. She felt awful and the guilt was eating her alive inside. She felt like the worst human being on earth. It had taken so long for things to work out, for her to finally find happiness and just when she had it all, she had foolishly thrown it all away for one night of lust.

Downstairs, Phil turned his key into the lock and opened the front door. It was another chilly night in the city he loved to call home and he relaxed as he felt the instant warmth from the thermostat. It was just beginning to turn nightfall and he had been across town at the apartment of his best friend Scott "Colt Cabana" Colton. He heard the shower running in the master bathroom and he smiled. It was a great feeling to come home and know she was there waiting for him. He was in love with Memphis Kramer. Walking up the stairs, he laid his keys on the dresser. He saw the clothes on the bed she had laid out for sleep and his hands reached out and touched her cotton underwear. The material was soft and feminine, much like the person who would soon be wearing them. Phil missed that. It had been weeks since they had been intimate. He missed undressing her, touching her, tasting her. He pulled the hoodie and tee shirt over his head, before quickly unfastening his belt buckle. He shed himself of his jeans, boxer shorts, and socks in record time. Walking to the bathroom door, he opened it and walked towards the shower. He pulled back the curtain and watched her for a few seconds. She was lost in thought and appeared not to pay attention. He stepped in and only when she felt a pair of hands envelope her middle, did she take notice, gasping and jumping a little.

"Relax, Dollface. It's just me," he said softly.

She visibly tensed and prayed that he could not see she had been crying again.

"Hey," she answered in a shaky voice. "I, I didn't hear you come in. How is Scotty?"

Phil shrugged.

"He's cool. He's wrestling tomorrow night, an AAW show."

"That's exciting," Memphis noted. "Are you gonna go?"

"Nah," Phil shook his head. "I mean, I'd like to. I want to give my support but it's not like I can actually sit in the front row or anything. Not to mention I'd be harassed beyond belief but uh…it's his moment and I don't want to be a dick and take away from that."

Memphis refused to meet his gaze.

"You're a good friend," she said softly.

"Yeah, I am a pretty fantastic guy, if I do say so myself," he kidded her.

Memphis cleared her throat.

"I, um…I was just finishing up here. I'll let you get some hot water," she went to move.

Phil stopped her.

"Stay," he said in a quiet, almost pleading voice.

"I'm not really being fair," she tried to make an excuse. "This shower is so small, there's really not enough room."

"It's no biggie. Freezing my nuts off back here is worth it being next to you. You're a pretty cool chick."

She bit her lip nervously as he picked up the shampoo bottle and squirted some into his palms. He rubbed them together, then ran his fingers through her hair, gently massaging her scalp. It felt so good that she moaned out loud. Who would have ever pictured it? He was the WWE's most sarcastic real life character, a self-professed nerd, the man that hardly ever let anyone get close to him. He had been called selfish and egotistical but Memphis got to know a beautiful and sweet and vulnerable side of Phil Brooks that many people did not get to see. He cared for her. He loved her. He was gentle with her. And as he stood there washing her hair, she felt more consumed with guilt and regret than ever.

"It feels good," she whispered, as he finished up.

He rinsed his hands off and when they were both soap free, he let his hands touch the softness of her wet shoulders. His hands ran down the length of her arms and then to her bare sides. He touched the smooth skin of her flat stomach, his fingertips tracing ever so lightly across her bellybutton. Memphis shivered involuntarily underneath his touch. His breathing was heavy as was hers as he lowered his head and let his lips plant tiny kisses across the back of her neck. His hands began to travel lower, desperate for the destination between her legs that had been claimed by him and only him.

"I love you," he breathed in her ear.

She closed her eyes.

"I love you, too, Punk."

"I miss touching you. I want you."

She knew she couldn't hold him off forever. She knew the time, the day would come when their sex life would resume. But she wasn't ready yet. It was too soon. She couldn't handle it. She couldn't let him go any further so she let the first thing that came to mind spill out of her mouth. What was the harm in one more lie?

"I can't."

"What?"

He slowly turned her to face him.

"I, I want you, too but I can't…we can't. I, um, I have a bladder infection, a UTI. I have to take pills and drink a lot of cranberry juice until it goes away but we're not supposed to have sex while I have it. Sorry."

Phil shrugged it off, disappointment in his eyes for the obvious reason.

"Oh. It's cool."

"Are you mad?" she squeaked.

He grinned at her.

"That you have cooties? No. It is what it is. Just means I have a date with my right hand and a jar of Vaseline later but in the meantime, I guess you're still cool enough to hang out with."

Memphis fought back tears.

"I'm sorry. Oh Punk, I am so sorry…"

"Relax, Dollface," he assured her, oblivious to the double meaning behind her apology. "It's just sex. Do I want some? Hell yes but it's not possible right now and I'll just have to live with that. Sex with you is great, in fact it's awesome but it's not the most important thing in the world. Not trying to get all sappy on you but us hanging out, cuddling, just talking…well, that's enough for me. It's a pretty cool feeling, besides we have the rest of our lives to have hot, raunchy, kinky shower sex."

"I don't deserve you. I mean that. I, I don't know how I ever got so lucky."

"Luck is for losers, you know how I feel about that. I don't believe in luck. I believe in fate, the fate we make. And I believe in us."

"Punk…"

"I don't know if I've said it cause this is all new for me and let's face it, being Mr. Sensitive isn't always my strongest trait, but if I haven't said it yet, I'm saying it now. I'm really happy you moved out here with me, Memphis. Chicago is the greatest city in the world. It's my city. I love this place and I am proud to call it home. And I love you and I'm proud to call you my girl. I think this thing we've got going on is pretty sweet and we can do good things here together."

She looked him in the eye and his sincerity genuinely melted her. He was a great guy. How had she managed to mess everything up? He deserved to know the truth but if he found out, it would devastate him, crush his trust in everything around him and fuel the rage inside him. Their relationship would be over and that was not what she wanted. That was why it was best to just forget. Forget about the betrayal, forget about everything that reminded her of Randy Orton.


	44. You Can Run But You Can't Hide

Memphis Kramer walked into the Covelli Center in Youngstown, Ohio with one bag over her shoulder and another dragging behind her. By her side was her boyfriend, Phil Brooks, as the two made their way into the arena for RAW. They had driven to Ohio from Chicago that morning and had enjoyed a workout together. She secured her belongings into the female locker room and met up with her friends, Melina Perez and Nattie Neidhart in the Catering area. The women enjoyed their food, giggling and gossiping the whole time. Memphis put her best fake smile forward but it was hard. It was hard to go on with her quote unquote normal life and pretend like nothing had ever happened, pretend like everything was okay. For nearly a month, the guilt she felt inside had been devouring her.

Being in Chicago with Phil was one thing. As a couple newly moved in together, it was supposed to be the happiest time of their life as they were starting one together. He was a great guy and they were happy, she was happy except for one thing. And making like it didn't happen, putting sex off with Phil was not going to make things better or erase the fact that she had slept with Randy Orton. Work only made it worse. The WWE was supposed to be a dream come true. Her career was finally at the place where she had worked for years to get to. She had come to love traveling and the fans and showing up for work and being with her colleagues. But one night in Canada had changed all that. Now her time was spent with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Every five seconds she was looking over her shoulder, making sure he wasn't around. For weeks she had successfully ducked and dodged the Viper. She had gone out of her way planning covert mission after mission that had ensured she did not run into Randy, not be alone in the same room with him, and not referee any of his matches. Avoiding him helped somewhat but it didn't make her feel much better. Spending time with her girlfriends didn't help either. She had been infinitely miserable going on 25 days and it seemed like nothing was going to ever make it better.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she headed to the front entrance. Just like before every show, legions of fans had lined the building early, hoping to get a brief look at their favorite Superstar, daring to hope they would be one of the lucky few that got a picture of autograph. Memphis had always had great appreciation for the fans. Without the WWE Universe there would be no WWE. She had never had a problem interacting with them and ever since her secret liaison with Randy, she had found solace in them. Instead of spending hours living a lie with Phil and the others or thinking up excuse after excuse to stay away from Randy, hanging out with the fans was the only time she felt like herself again. That hour or so making dreams come true with the simple movement of a Sharpie or click of a camera helped to clear her head. She could focus on someone other than herself, other than Phil, other than Randy and other than the horrible, sordid mess she had made.

"Can I please get a pic, Memphis?"

"Memphis, over here!"

She nodded and grinned and moved down the line as security kept a close watch. As she signed a program for a young fan, she glanced over and saw a guy in the crowd wearing an Orton tee shirt. That wasn't uncommon. He was a hot commodity and his merchandise was a top seller but staring into the icy likeness on a shirt paralyzed her in the moment. A small smile crept to her lips. Who was she kidding? It made her think about him but that was nothing new. In fact, she thought of him all the time. Whether it was good or bad, whether she was ducking and dodging, he, that night was always on her mind. When she closed her eyes, she could still see him, still feel him…still taste him on her lips.

"Hey Memphis, it's time," Barry the security guard glanced down at his watch.

She knew what that meant. It was time to head inside, time to get ready for the event. She said her good byes and disappeared inside the massive building. She had already picked up production notes for that night. Her matches were John Morrison and Sheamus as well as Wade Barrett versus Evan Bourne. Heading to the changing area, she quickly disrobed and put on her freshly pressed fitted black slacks, shoes and striped top. She pulled her hair back into a neat ponytail and carefully applied her makeup. A few seconds there was a knock on the door. It was one of the Production Assistants.

"Memphis, Mr. Laurinaitis would like to have a word with you. He's down in the conference room."

John Laurinaitis was former professional wrestler, Johnny Ace and the current Executive Vice President of Talent Relations. He traveled with the rosters constantly and was basically in charge of everything talent related from booking appearances to actual wrestling matches. Memphis nodded, checking her reflection in the mirror one last time. The backstage area was chilly so she grabbed an official WWE hoodie and slid it on. The walk to the conferencing area was a short one. She rounded the corner and entered the room. John Laurinaitis was not there but someone else was. Wearing one of his tee shirts, wrestling trunks, and boots was none other than the Apex Predator himself. Memphis was taken aback. Her gasp was audible as she eyed him carefully.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned suspiciously.

"I…"

She didn't let him finish.

"I told you I never wanted to talk to you again," she said angrily. "What part of that do you not understand?"

"Look…"

"I have absolutely nothing to say to you. And if you think this is a funny or cute little way to get me to talk to you by getting some PA to lie and say John Laurinaitis wanted to see me, then this is just pathetic. It is stupid and pathetic and I want no part of it and no way is it going to work so just do me a favor and leave me the hell alone."

Randy frowned and raised an eyebrow.

"Really, Memphis? You think I went through all that trouble just to see you? Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart. I got a message to meet Laurinaitis in here myself. Trust me, I had no idea you would be here."

His words were swift, matching her aggressive tone but deep down inside he was glad to see her. She looked beautiful. And as much as the Legend Killer hated to admit it, he missed talking to her. His feelings for her were real and they hadn't changed. As hard as it was, he had respected her space and kept his distance ever since she had freaked out the morning after they had sex. He knew she had been avoiding him but now they were unexpectedly face to face. She had been running from him and probably from her own true feelings but now there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

"Whatever," she made a face, still not convinced. "Just don't look at me."

He shook his head.

"When are you gonna stop?"

"Excuse me?"

"When are you gonna stop running from the truth?" Randy's intense stare bore a hole in her. "You can't not talk to me or be around me forever, you know. I've given you time and space and I've kept my mouth shut about what happened but there is gonna come a time when you have to stop being afraid and face reality and admit what happened that night and admit how you really feel about me."

Memphis bit her lip.

"That night never happened. And the only thing I feel for you is contempt and disgust."

Randy stood and walked towards her. His hulking frame towered above her. Just being so close caused goose pimples to cover her flesh.

"It happened," he breathed in her ear. "You know damned well that it happened. That feeling you get when you can't even look Phil in the eye because you know you lied to him and when he finds out the truth, he is going to hate your guts. The feeling you get in the middle of the night or early in the morning when you're tossing and turning in bed and your body is aching to be satisfied like I pleased you that whole night. The feeling you try to ignore, those inner voices you try to silence, that tell you that you're supposed to hate me, that tell you that night and the time we spent together before that doesn't mean anything. The feeling you're fighting right now of wanting me to throw you against that wall and make you come five times in a row again. All that, Memphis…it's me. I'm inside your head. And until you deal with it, until you're honest with yourself, it won't go away."

Memphis felt her blood pressure start to rise. How dare he! Who the hell did he think he was? She hated Randy. She hated him for being a jerk. But most of all, she hated him for being right.

"Fuck you," she spat.

"You already did that," he kept his cool.

Seething, Memphis reached back and let her hand land hard against the Viper's face. He shook off the sting of the slap but another one was on the way. His cat like reflexes caught her hand in midair and held it.

"Let me go," she commanded.

He stared at her for a moment before finally releasing his grip. He backed away slowly, just in time for the door to open and John Laurinaitis made his entrance. He was followed by Michael Cole, Jerry Lawler and Phil. They were in deep discussion regarding commentating and production for the broadcast. Memphis' eyes caught Phil's. He playfully rolled them and made a funny face and a hand gesture aimed at making fun of Laurinaitis' reputation for being rather long winded. She forced a smile, ignoring Randy's gaze that had drifted towards them.

"Randy, Memphis, thank you for meeting me on such short notice right before the show. Randy, you and Miz are scheduled for the Main Event. There are a few last minute changes so it is very important that all the key players are involved," John began, clapping his hands for emphasis.

"I'm confused," Memphis frowned. "Why did you need me?"

"Memphis, we want you to officiate this match. It's a perfect fit."

Memphis felt her heart skip.

"No," she loudly blurted out, much to everyone's surprise.

"Is there a problem?" John looked right at her.

She cleared her throat.

"No…I mean, it's just that I've got two big matches already. Maybe someone else could take this one."

John shook his head.

"You're the one we want. Besides, watching your past in ring interaction with Orton and Mizanin has revealed an incredible chemistry. It looks good on screen. Now moving right along…"

Memphis sighed. She knew it was no use in protesting. It was a done deal and arguing with the boss especially in front of her boyfriend would only raise suspicion. So she quietly listened to the plans. As she stood, her mind drifting off into another world, she jumped when she felt fingertips gently rubbing the small of her back. She peeked over her shoulders and saw that it was Phil. A few minutes later the meeting was over and after adjournment, everyone dispersed. Randy watched the couple leave as Memphis purposefully avoided looking at him on the way out.

"Everything kosher?" Phil looked at his girl.

Memphis nodded.

"I'm good."

"You up to making the trip back home tonight after the show?"

"Sure," she readily agreed.

Phil stopped and looked at her, tilting her face up to meet his eyes.

"You sure everything is okay? You've been kind of weird lately, Dollface, even weirder than usual. I'm starting to worry about you."

"Punk, I'm fine…"

He took a deep breath.

"This might not be the time or place but I know it was stressful and scary with the move and all. Things are good between us but if you need to talk, I mean, if you're having second thoughts…"

Her eyes widened.

"It's not that."

"Whatever it is, I've got your back. I mean that, kiddo. Strength in numbers. You know you can tell me anything."

"I know," she swallowed hard.

"Sorry to break this up love birds but Punk, we've got to get out there," Jerry slapped Phil on the back.

It was almost time for RAW to go live.

"We'll talk after the show but um…it's okay. Everything is going to be okay. I love you."

"You too," he leaned in and kissed her.

When he pulled away, she wouldn't let him. She kept her arms around his neck, never breaking their kiss. Finally she let go, leaving them both breathless. Getting herself together, she put her game face on. She now had three matches, one at the beginning, one in the middle and one at the end of the show. Focusing on the work, she made it through the first two stints in the ring. The third would require extra mental preparation and Memphis' legs felt like jelly as she walked down that ramp for the final time that night. She climbed between the ropes to much fanfare. Phil was comfortably at the announce table undoubtedly charming the home audience with his unique wit and charm. Their eyes met and he winked at her. The moment was interrupted when Voices began to play. The fans were all on their feet while the referee desperately tried to keep her footing. She exhaled and waited as he sauntered to the ring. He played to the reaction before turning around to face the woman he shared a secret one night history with. They never uttered a word but their expressions silently spoke volumes. Memphis felt like she might pass out. Randy smirked. He recognized that look. With that, he looked her right in the eyes and flailed his arms back, striking that classic RKO pose. He knew he had her right where he wanted her.


	45. How You Gonna Fix It?

Memphis sighed heavily as she entered the warm hotel room. Loveland, Colorado had more than lived up to its reputation for being cold in the winter time. As she kicked off her boots, she turned up the already comfortable thermostat a few more notches. Rubbing her hands together, she peered outside the curtains. There was a pretty view from the third floor, one that seemed to perfectly showcase the falling white snowflakes that had now completely blanketed the ground. The street lamp added to the glorious light of the full moon. She couldn't help but smile faintly. Growing up in Florida, she had never seen real snow as a little girl. Now traveling all over the country, she was exposed to all different types of climates and weather. The small child in her felt like running out in the middle of the parking lot and twirling around in her very own winter wonderland.

She snapped out of the dream like stance when the hotel door opened and shut. It was Phil Brooks. For some reason, he was singing the song That's Amore at the top of his lungs. He didn't have a bad voice, in fact, he was a rather good singer when he was being serious. The room was spacious and he followed suit by removing his shoes, then his shirt and hoodie. He mulled about the room in an unusually chipper mood. Another week had passed and another Monday Night RAW had come to an end. The show had gone off without a hitch. Though professional wrestling was his true love, while his injury entered the last stages of healing, he had to admit he enjoyed his commentating duties at ringside with Michael Cole and Jerry the King Lawler. For two hours he was a witty and painfully honest unscripted nonstop barrel of laughs combined with unparalleled knowledge of the business.

Life in Chicago had been happy and would have been normal had Memphis not been constantly haunted by what she had done in Canada. She had settled nicely into her new home and her new role as Phil's live in girlfriend. Though she had started to heal emotionally, the memory was always there. But more than regretting that night, she was fighting to suppress her growing feelings and attraction for one Randal Orton. She thought about him a lot and it was worse the few times a week she was forced to see him on the road. Avoiding him had been nothing short of impossible. His presence loomed like a dark cloud. His cockiness, his sexiness, his swagger, his smirk…everything she had always loathed about him were now the very characteristics that had dangerously begun to blur the thin line between love and hate.

She couldn't love Randy. It could never be. It would never work. Randy was no good. He was selfish. He was arrogant. He was thoughtless. It was the worst idea ever. It was a simple fantasy she had convinced herself. He was the ultimate bad boy, as good looking as they came. She had flirted closely with disaster and clumsily teetered off the edge falling right into bed with the Apex Predator. The sex had been out of this world, just as one would imagine and that only added to the myth. Imagining being with him was a perfect picture. Life with him would be fun and spontaneous, dangerous and thrilling, a sexy and erotic dwelling of pure unpredictability. Whereas Phil was safe and normal and comfortable. And boring.

Memphis bit down on her lip hard as if to scold herself. She immediately felt a whole new pang of guilt just for thinking such thoughts. Most women would kill to have a guy in their lives like Phil Brooks. He was handsome and funny and smart and sweet. Above all, he loved her and was devoted and loyal. There was nothing in the world he wouldn't do to make her happy. And she, they, had been happy until Randy had come along and messed things up. What was wrong with safe, normal and comfortable? And wasn't boring better than a bunch of nonstop drama all the time? Besides, she knew Phil and she knew him well. She loved him. If she could just get Randy out of her mind, if she could just forget about him and what they had done, everything would go back to being okay again.

"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore…"

Phil was the one who had protected her from the beginning. By far, he was the most loyal human being she had ever met and how had she managed to repay that loyalty? He had never hurt her feelings or yelled at her or had been too busy to spend time with her. He was a good man and an even better friend. He was a sympathetic ear to all her problems, an understanding life partner who knew what the rigors of living out of a suitcase were all about. Despite the cloud of regret and guilt that followed Memphis, she had managed to put her best face forward and their relationship had continued, he blissfully unaware of her betrayal. For 32 days, their lives had continued, most nights with him holding her close in his strong arms, not even questioning why she was steadfastly refusing to make love to him. He loved her, it was all about her, whatever she wanted, whatever made her comfortable. Memphis felt like a piece of shit. Phil deserved better.

"What's with the song?" she shoved her hands in her pockets.

He grinned and shrugged.

"Must be all that lasagna," he rubbed his stomach.

"Dinner was delicious."

After the show, they had shared a fine traditional Italian meal.

"You know, the night is still young. Say, you want to go outside and make snow angels?"

Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed, and smiled at his comment. He was known for saying the damnest things.

"No thanks, babe. It's way too cold and snow angels are totally random, by the way. Listen, do you have the flight information for tomorrow?"

"Loser," he teased. "And the flight leaves at 11. Got both our e tickets printed and in my suitcase."

He went about his nightly routine. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, soon he was in boxers. He grabbed a comic book and fell into bed, making sure the remote control was close by. Sure enough, the USA network was showing a Law and Order SVU marathon. He loved that show and he and Memphis had spent many a night cuddling, watching episode after episode for hours. He had a weird sleep schedule, weirder than many of the other Superstars. He was a permanent insomniac, hence the bags that lived underneath his eyes. He rarely slept, most of it came from stolen travel moments during the daylight hours or on days off in Chicago with the shades drawn tight. Memphis had always found comfort falling asleep next to him. Even though he'd fitfully toss and turn, read a bit and flip through channels, he was there when she closed her eyes and she knew no matter what, he would always be there when she opened them.

"Punk," she muttered softly as she stood over him.

He raised one eyebrow.

"What are you doing, Dollface? That's quite the creepy look there. That's a Lifetime movie, the crazy chick is about to stab the hapless dude reading the comic book in bed look. What gives?"

She couldn't lose him. She couldn't bear to lose the most stable relationship she had ever had in her life. She had messed up but he didn't know that, therefore there was still time to fix it.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you too, kiddo," he went back to the illustrated pages.

Memphis pulled her fitted black hoodie over her head. Her red tank top soon followed. She peeled out of the skinny jeans and knee length Pippy Longstockings winter socks. Taking off her black hat and placing it on the table, she walked over to the bed. She reached over and took the book from his unsuspecting hands, tossing it aside to the floor. She did the same to the remote. A look of confusion crossed his face but she straddled his body before he had time to react. Leaning over she cupped his bearded face and kissed him. It was a kiss filled with both purpose and passion. She rammed her tongue deep inside his mouth, catching him off guard at first. She had never kissed him or anyone else like that. It was as if she was trying to devour him whole. Her manicured fingernails raked across the new tattoo in progress on his chest, causing him to wince a little. But she didn't stop. Instead she ground her body into his, pushing him back so that they both fell against the plush stack of pillows.

"I want you, Punk," she commanded, breathless. "Touch me."

It was more of an order than a request. A month's worth of sexual frustration and masturbating alone had him eagerly reciprocating by letting his hands alternate roaming over the lacy cups of her bra and the silky material that barely covered her ass. Memphis bit into his lip hard as her right hand found a firm grip on the warm and aching manhood that was throbbing to be released from its cotton confines. Looking down at it, she stroked it roughly before uncharacteristically lowering her mouth and spitting onto the head. Phil chuckled in surprise.

"Whoa, Dollface," he tried to catch his bearings. "What the hell is this, the Jenna Jameson hour?"

Memphis ignored him as she continued her oral attack. It was a striking contrast between the pleasure of a blowjob and the pain of teeth scratching his most tender flesh. She pushed him flat on his back, then quickly removed her matching bra and panty set. Tying the underwear around his throat, he moaned out loud, inhaling her womanly scent from the moist crotch just inches from his nose. Pinning his much larger and stronger arms down, she climbed on top again and positioned him so that he was deep inside her. She rode him hard and fast, their heavy breathing met only with the sound of the bed creaking beneath their writhing weights. With one last thrust, he released with a guttural groan, his hot seed splashing deep inside her walls. Memphis clinched her muscles around him, draining every last drop. When it was over, she collapsed quietly across his torso.

"Punk…"

He ran his hands through his hair, wiping the sweat that dripped from his brow.

"That was…different."

She rolled off of him. Now what? It had been a long time since they had been intimate, since she could bring herself to touch and be touched by him. This was supposed to fix everything. This was supposed to make it all better. This was supposed to bring them back to normal. This was supposed to erase what she had done with Randy. But nothing had changed in those minutes. Nothing was different. Everything was very much still the same. And all that was left was a painfully empty feeling.

"Oh my God," she whispered out loud to herself.

Phil grinned.

"Come here, you little hellcat," he joked, pulling her close again. "What got into you? No complaints here but that um…that was pretty wild. Daddy like."

She had no answers. She had no tears left. It was what it was and the realization was more powerful than ever. Her heart and soul were damaged, victims of the venom from a poisonous Viper. No sexual first aid kit or pretend it away remedy was going to work. Her relationship with Phil had been forever changed by what had happened with Randy in Canada and it was only a matter of time before Phil found out. And if, when that happened, there would be no more fixing it.


	46. It's Not Over

Memphis had just finished refereeing a match at the FedEx Forum in the city for which she had been named. She had grown particularly close to Nattie Neidhart and Melina Perez and during the house show, the two women, two of the premiere female faces had faced each other in an entertaining and intensely physical match up that their newest girlfriend had been thrilled to officiate. As Memphis walked towards the back of the arena, she was struck with the disappointment that such a wonderful matchup had not been televised. The Divas matches were usually limited to two minutes of yelling and hair pulling every other RAW. The women in the company were so much more than that. They worked hard and deserved to showcase their talents and get the respect they had earned. Walking towards the changing room and looking forward to a hot shower, Memphis decided to make one quick stop in Catering. She wasn't hungry but her mouth was dry and she was getting tired. The next city was Chicago so she was debating whether to make the eight hour drive in the rental or just fly back to Illinois. Desperately craving an energy drink, she reached into the cooler and pulled out a Monster. The room was dimly lit and most of the edible supplies gone. She didn't even hear someone else walk in the room.

Sore after his bout with Justin Gabriel, Randy Orton craned his neck while stretching his long arms over his head. He had won, of course, but he had fallen victim to the South African Sensation's 450 Splash. Heading back to his bus, he couldn't seem to find a cold water anywhere in the building. The show was coming to a close and everybody was beginning to pack up but Catering was his last option. He walked in, not even noticing that someone else had beaten him to the punch. Randy approached the cooler, then looked up. That's when he saw her and for both, the air left the room, making it awkward and tense.

"Hey," he said.

She bit her lip.

"Hey."

"Don't worry. I'm not stalking you. I'm just thirsty."

He brushed past her and reached for a water. Holding onto her can of Monster for dear life, Memphis made a quick bee line for the exit. Randy sighed. Typical. She did whatever she had to do to avoid him and when somehow they managed to be in the same breathing vicinity for more than four seconds, she was ignoring him and already looking for a way out. For over a month he had been letting her go, biting his tongue and trying to let her have her space and figure out her own way. His feelings for her, both physical and emotional, had only intensified since their sexual encounter. He knew deep down that she felt the same way even though she did not show it. She was engaged in a stubborn bout with herself and denial and he knew just sitting back waiting wasn't going to help her come around any quicker. He reached out and stopped her from leaving, grabbing her by the arm.

"Stop it," she recoiled from his touch.

"Memphis."

She shivered when he called her by name. His large hand was on her shoulder, begging her to turn and face him but she couldn't. She was tired. Tired of fighting against him, tired of lying to Phil, tired of lying to herself, tired of fighting what she was feeling inside.

"Just leave me alone."

"Don't run away from me," he hands fell to her waist as he leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Stop fighting it, stop fighting me. You can't run away forever. We have to talk."

Memphis' eyes shut tight.

"Don't do this to me. Please."

"How can I not do this? Memphis, it is time for you to face the truth. For a month and a half, I have kept my mouth shut and backed off and done everything I was supposed to do, everything you needed me to do. I was trying to give you time to come around."

He slowly turned her around but she hung her head, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Just leave," she begged in a voice so soft and low that it could barely be heard. "Oh God, why can't you just leave me alone?"

He tilted her chin to meet his face. Once their eyes met, it was no turning away. She felt paralyzed, hypnotized, much like she did that night in Canada. It was the moment she had been trying to avoid so desperately, now he, they were there.

"This is why," he breathed.

The Viper lowered his face until his lips captured hers. In an uncharacteristic move, he moaned out loud at the sweetness of the taste he had been missing and craving for 39 agonizing days. Her lips felt much softer than he remembered and as he stood there cupping her face, he half expected her to scream or slap him or both. Instead she did neither. To both their surprises, she kissed back.

"Randy," she whimpered when they pulled away breathless.

"I want you," he stated simply. "I want all of you and you know it's about more than sex. I know you want it too, Memphis. I know you do."

She slowly started to back away as tears filled her eyes.

"I don't."

"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't think about me."

"Please…"

"Memphis…"

"What the hell do you want from me? I, I don't get you. You had me. I was weak and in the moment and I had sex with you. I put all the blame on you but truth is, there are no more excuses. I did what I did and I have had to live with that. The guilt is excruciating. I know after everything you and I have been through that getting me into a bed was a challenge for you. You're Randy Orton. You like challenges, you like sex. You won, okay? You got laid, you proved the point that you could seduce me and you get the secret satisfaction of knowing once again that you took something that is very special to Phil. You got everything you wanted, Randy."

"Not everything."

"What? What more is there?"

"You."

"Randy…"

"It stopped being about the sex a long time ago, you know that. And if this was all about getting back at Phil, don't you think I would have blown your spot up by now? I mean, how many chances have I had to tell him?"

She swallowed hard. He had a point.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Leave him."

She shook her head.

"No. No way. I can't do that to him. I won't."

"Why not?"

"Because I love him."

Randy rolled his eyes.

"Loving somebody as a friend, loving somebody because you feel sorry for them or because they make you feel safe…is that how you're going to live your life? Memphis, is that what you're gonna hide behind?"

"I do love him."

He chuckled sarcastically.

"No, you don't. You know, from the moment I met you, you were this mouthy, feisty, strong, independent woman who didn't take shit from anybody, including me. Good or bad, that's what drew me to you in the first place. What happened to her? Huh, Memphis? Where did she go? Cause all I see in front of me now is a scared, spineless, co-dependent coward."

A single tear slid down her cheek that she frantically wiped away.

"Is that all you got?" she managed. "Is that what it goes back to, you trying to cut me down with words? Well, go ahead. It doesn't matter. Maybe, maybe a little part of you was right. Maybe that night, those few hours changed things, made me feel stuff. Maybe for a night it was sex that I wanted from you and maybe afterwards I was foolish enough to think there could be more. But that was then, Randy. That was fantasy. It was just sex."

"I call bullshit on that one. It was more than all that and you damn well know it."

"That's over now," she turned to walk away.

Randy chased her down and blocked the exit.

"He don't make you feel the way that I do. Not in here," he put his hand on her chest over her heart. "And certainly not in bed. Look, I'm not a perfect guy. Most of the time I am an asshole but I guess I don't have to tell you all that. I changed a lot, Memphis, and some of that had to do with you. For whatever reason that I can't explain, you made me want to be a better person. That counts for something, at least it does with me. I can't make a bunch of promises to you. I can't tell you that I won't ever screw up again, cause face it, we both know that I will. All I can do is tell you that I want you, that I care about you, that I think about you a lot when you're not around…probably way more than I ought to. I'm not gonna be that perfect guy that kisses your ass all the time and I'm not gonna put creepy ass fake gothic engagement rings on your finger. I can't tell you what's gonna happen with us but all I know is there is something there that's bigger than you or me. I feel it and I know you feel it, too. The way we talk, the way we get along, the way we can share private, personal stuff with one another…the way it just exploded between us in bed. I know it's not safe, Memphis and you're probably scared but I'm not the safe guy. But I won't deny what I feel and you can't either, not anymore. I told you a few weeks ago I'm inside your head. Well, I'm in your heart, too and so is the memory of that night. It's not over and as long as you keep pretending, as long as you keep stringing Phil along, it will never be over."

His words hit as powerful as a fist. She wanted to walk away, hell, she wanted to run away but she couldn't. And when he pulled her in for another kiss, she didn't bother to fight him off. Emotionally exhausted, she gave in to want. As their tongues danced, the confusion evaporated. She could admit it to herself. It was Randy Orton that she wanted, not Phil Brooks. Moaning, she let him slam her against the wall, grinding his massive hardness against the cotton material of her black slacks. He pinned her arms back with one hand, letting the other rub between her legs, as his lips launched a massive attack on her neck.

"Randy," she cried out.

He laughed.

"That's it, baby. Call out my name."

Mustering all the strength she had left, she pushed him away.

"We can't," she tried to regain a normal breathing pattern.

Randy took a few steps back, shaking his head as he felt a surge of anger rise through him.

"So that's what it's gonna be like, Memphis? You're gonna do this with me, then go back home to him?" he questioned, his voice rising in anger.

Memphis took a deep breath.

"I mean we can't do this here, not now. It, it's not right. I have to tell Phil, I have to tell him everything," her voice broke. "And I know it's gonna hurt him beyond belief and that kills me but I…you're right. Dammitt, you are so fucking right about everything and I, I, I just can't do this anymore, I can't keep living like this. I want to have sex with you. And I want to be with you, whatever that means, as much as any girl can really be with Randy Orton. I want desire and chaos and fun and unpredictability with you. I, I don't want to be safe anymore but I have to do it the right way. I have to face my betrayal. That means I have to face Phil. I can't risk making it worse by getting caught screwing you in the abandoned Catering room. God, he deserves more than that. We've already hurt him, I don't want to humiliate him."

Randy could only nod.

"When?"

"I don't know. Soon."

He nodded, his want for her stronger than ever. There was nothing else to do or say. The ball was in her court now. With tears drops streaming down her face, she reluctantly wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him one more kiss before scurrying away. The hallway was empty but she could hear voices not far away. Not ready to see anyone just yet, she opened the first door she could which just so happened to be a janitor's closet. Closing the door, she leaned over and vomited in the large trash can before sinking to her knees in a fit of sobs. She couldn't fight it anymore. And she couldn't deny it or fix it either. With Phil, she was always convincing herself that she didn't want Randy. But being with Randy, there was no convincing. As wrong as she knew it was, it still felt so damned right. And now would come the hardest part. The truth had come full circle and it wasn't going to hurt like hell.


	47. Walking The Thin Line

It was supposed to be a Wednesday much like any other Wednesday but it turned out to be a day like no other. Early Tuesday morning in the wee hours, Memphis Kramer had arrived on a red eye at O'Hare airport. She had taken a cab back to the home she shared with her boyfriend. She had let herself inside with her key, hoping and praying that he was still asleep. His never ending insomnia had him pitter pattering about in the dawn. He had been happy to see her and she had been greeted with a smile and kisses. Exhausted, she had headed straight to their bedroom where she had collapsed. Mental and physical exhaustion was one thing but sleep also brought about much needed escape.

She didn't want to deal with her life. She didn't want to deal with the decision she had made. She didn't want to deal with Phil. In fact, she didn't want to deal with anything. Figuring she was out of it, an unsuspecting Phil had left her be, joining her much later in the morning as he curled up next to her. They had slept all day and quietly watched movies and ordered pizza in that evening. Once again she had purposely avoided making love to him. As they lazed in the bed they shared, she couldn't help but look over and know that when they'd had sex four days before, it would be the last time they ever would. She hadn't realized it at the time and resting beside her in the moment, he had no idea. Memphis cradled the pillow close as she closed her eyes and tried to remember every detail. It had been passionate but slow, him thrusting softly inside her. The whole time he had been on top, holding her close, kissing her neck and lips, grunting in pleasure, occasionally whispering in her ear. A wave of sadness washed over her. She wished then she had known it would be the last time. Maybe she would have paid more attention. Despite everything, she did love him and always would. It would be nice to freeze that hour or so in time and treasure it forever because soon nothing would ever be the same.

By Wednesday he had awakened early, full of energy. He and Memphis had put in a hardcore fulfilling workout at the local gym they liked to frequent together. Afterwards, they walked around the city hand in hand, ate at one of his favorite taco stands, and caught a local Indy show backstage where Phil's best friend, Scott "Colt Cabana" Colton was headlining. The night was capped off with an AFI concert, one of Phil's favorite bands. It was an unusually perfect day. In fact, he couldn't remember being so relaxed and having such a good time. His hip was almost completely rehabbed and he was mere weeks away from returning full time to wrestling in the ring. He was in a good place and it had a lot to do with Memphis. He had found a good girl who meant the world to him. Life was good.

"It was a great day, Dollface. I think there is another Law and Order SVU marathon tonight. How's about we lay around, see what Benson and Stabler are up to for a couple hours, then end the night with a marathon of our own?"

Memphis bit her lip. The four walls were closing in.

"Physical therapy is over pretty soon, huh?" she asked out of the blue.

"Yep. Don't get me wrong, I dig running my mouth will Cole and Lawler on RAW but being inside that ring, rasslin'…that's my life. That's what I was meant to do."

"I, I just wanted to say that I'm really proud of you. I know the injury has been tough, both mentally and physically. You've gone through a lot but through it all, you kept your head up, did what you had to do. And it's all for something you love. Your sacrifice, your dedication, your hard work, your integrity…God, Punk, I respect you so much for that."

"Memphis…"

"I'm serious. You're always honest and upfront and you worked for everything you ever got. And even the nights when your hip hurt so bad that I saw tears in your eyes, you never took one pain pill because it goes against everything you believe in. And you always stand up for and stay true to your beliefs. I, I have always admired that about you. And no matter what happens, please know, you have to know how much I love you. I do. I love you, Punk," her voice cracked with real emotion as she threw her arms around his neck.

He raised one eyebrow and gave her a sincere smile.

"Aw shucks, Dollface," he kidded. "I don't know where the hell all this is coming from but I'll take what I can get. I love you, too. I am a lucky man and you know how I feel about luck but uh, what else can I say because I have the sweetest girl ever. You're so good to me, babe. You take care of me, you're always there for me and you actually give a shit about how I feel and what I do. It's kind of cool for me cause I've never had that kind of compassion before. It's amazing. You're amazing."

She felt like she might faint.

"Punk…"

"I'm gonna grab snacks for tonight. Pretzels, Pepsi…what else you feel like?"

"Punk, I have to tell you something," she looked away.

"Shoot."

She grabbed on to the counter for support.

"I can't do this," she whispered.

He stopped and looked at her.

"Fine," he dramatically rolled his eyes. "No SVU, you win. I'll let you pick what we watch but I swear if your turn to the Golden Girls or In The Heat of The Night, I can't guarantee that I won't barf. Seriously. How much cock can those old broads actually get and more importantly, why is there so much fucking crime in, where the hell did that show take place? Sparta Mississippi? Dude, more shit happens there than L.A., Chicago and New York combined. I liked Carroll O'Connor much better as Archie Bunker anyway."

She looked at him and saw the happiness and hope in his eyes, she heard it in his voice and it destroyed her that in a few seconds she was about to take it all away.

"No. I, I can't do _this_. Us. Me and you, Punk. I, I can't. We can't."

"Okay," he chuckled. "You win. You can watch your stupid shows."

"Punk, you're not listening to me…"

He looked at her and one glance in her eyes, he knew something was wrong.

"Dollface…"

"I am so sorry…"

Phil walked over to her and put an arm around her slim waist, using his right hand to tilt her chin upwards to look at him.

"Hey," he spoke in a soft voice. "It's okay. Talk to me, babe. Whatever is going on, you know you can come to me. We'll talk about it. We'll get through it. I don't want you to be upset."

"We have to break up," she began to cry.

"Memphis…"

"No! I am a horrible person. I did so many bad things. You deserve better, you deserve so much more. Punk, you gave me everything…and I…I, I gave you betrayal."

His body visibly stiffened.

"What are you talking about?" he asked after a few seconds.

Tears streamed down her face.

"I, I have something to tell you…"

"What?"

The words seemed to choke in her throat.

"I can't be with you anymore because…because…"

He shoved his hands in his pockets, swallowing hard.

"What is it, Memphis? Or maybe I should ask who is it?"

His voice was eerily calm.

"I am so, so sorry…"

"Is it someone else?"

"Punk..."

"Answer me. Is it someone else?"

"This is so hard for me," she wiped at her eyes. "This is the hardest thing I've ever done."

"It's not that hard. It's a simple question. Yes or no."

Her whole body trembled.

"Yes," she said in a barely audible voice.

Phil Brooks had always considered himself a man in control. Just minutes before he had been on top of the world. Now his whole world had fallen apart, been ripped out from underneath him. He felt like everything was suddenly spinning dangerously out of control. It had always been difficult for him to express his true emotions openly and freely. From the minute he had met Memphis, he had liked her. He had trust issues from previous relationships but he had allowed himself to trust her, to love her. And now she was crying, confessing the worst possible sin.

"Who?" he questioned.

"Please…"

"Who?" he repeated in a much firmer voice.

Memphis began to shake. She couldn't do it. She couldn't bring herself to say it.

"I can't," she shook her head.

"I want to hear you say it."

"Punk…"

"Is it Orton?"

"I, I'm sorry…"

"I don't want to hear your weak ass apologies. I want to know. Is it Randy Orton?"

"Yes," she whispered.

Phil nodded before chuckling sarcastically in spite of the situation.

"Yeah. Of course it is Orton."

"I swear I did not mean for this to happen…"

"Did you fuck him?"

"I don't want to hurt you with the details," she answered meekly.

"It's a little late for that one, Dollface, don't you think? Or maybe you weren't thinking at all. Or maybe you were just thinking about yourself."

"Punk…"

"How long has this been going on? How many times?"

"Just once. It, it happened a month ago, just one time and I am so sorry because we, I didn't plan it…"

"Oh that's convenient. La dee fucking da. That makes it all better cause you and Orton didn't plan it. What did you do, trip, fall and accidentally land on his hard cock?"

"Punk…"

"Now it makes sense, that's where you learned all these new tricks in bed. I'm thinking you wanted to make me happy, spice up our relationship when the whole time you're just busting out the new moves your sleazy little lover man taught you."

"It wasn't like that."

"How could you do that, Memphis? To me, to yourself? What the fuck were you thinking, sleeping with me and sleeping with him? I'm here being faithful to you and you're out dicking around on me this whole time with that nasty motherfucker of all people. On top of losing my girlfriend, now I have to worry about diseases and shit?"

"No, no, I didn't give you any disease, I promise."

"Well ain't that good to know," he spat. "Thanks for the concern and consideration. Really. My dick and my immune system sincerely appreciate that. Good looking out."

"Please don't. God, I know you're hurting right now…" she reached out to him.

He instantly jerked away from her.

"You bitch," he gave her a look of pure disgust. "I loved you and I trusted you and I thought we had something special."

"We did. It wasn't you…"

Phil felt his blood beginning to boil. He didn't want her to apologize or cry or patronize him any further. She came towards him and he pushed past her, his anger spiraling out of control. He was mad. If Randy Orton were there, he could have killed him with his bare hands. And though he thought violence against women was repulsive, it was taking every restraint he had left not to pummel Memphis. Needing to channel the rage somewhere, he unleashed his fist against the wall.

"Fuck you, Memphis! Don't come at me with that bullshit, don't touch me, don't try to make this better!"

"I can't," she started to wail. "I know you must hate me and that hurts but you can't possibly hate me anymore than I already hate myself. I know you don't believe me, I know you don't want to hear it but I am sorry and I did not mean to fall for Randy. It all happened so fast. We were enemies, we were friends and things just started to happen and I tried to stop it, I tried to fight what I was feeling but I, I couldn't. I should have been honest with you, I should have told you and I shouldn't have slept with Randy but it happened and I wish it didn't and if I could take it back I would, if I could make your hurt go away, I would but I can't and I am so sorry for that. Punk, please!"

He wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"Well, the truth is out now," he started to calm down a little. "I hope you feel better."

"I don't," she answered truthfully.

"Well as of now your feelings don't really matter that much to me anymore. Loving you, taking care of you, being your friend, listening to your problems, putting up with your drama and bullshit? That's over now. I'm off the hook and thank goodness for that one. Go be Orton's problem."

"Punk…"

"This conversation is over. I have nothing else to say to you. I don't want to talk about it or hear your lame ass apologies and excuses. I just want you out of my life."

"Please…"

"I mean it, Memphis. You need to figure out where you're going to live cause I want you out of my house. You've got 30 seconds to grab your stuff and whatever you can get with two hands, you can have. The rest will be sent to you."

She knew he meant it and she couldn't much blame him. Trying to somewhat compose herself, she grabbed the keys to her Audi and reached for her jacket and purse. This was it. She had dreaded the moment but it was inevitable. And despite his reaction, he needed to hear the truth.

"I, um…"

"Get the fuck out."

She nodded, tears streaming.

"I'm sorry."

He waited until she got to the door.

"Memphis?"

She stopped, her legs trembling.

"Yeah?" she whispered, too upset to turn and face him.

"You sold out for a magazine and some money and now you've sold out for Randy Orton. I guess this whole time I should have treated you like the hooker you are because when it comes down to it, Dollface, he was right all along. You're a whore."

His words stung harder than if he'd punched her right in the face. The door closed behind her and she was gone. Her car cranked, then pulled out of the driveway and Phil was left with sadness, anger, loneliness, and utter disbelief. His worst fears had come true. He hadn't been paranoid or jealous or over possessive. He had been a man simply trying to protect what was his from an evil Viper just ready to pounce and prey. The woman he had given his heart to had lied to him, cheated on him. And now she was gone. The void, the hole in his heart was tangible. Tears filled his eyes and there was no shame in letting them fall. He was hurting like he had never hurt before.

As Memphis drove away from Phil, away from her new home and the life she had just built, sobs racked her body. As the lights of the Chi-town city limits disappeared behind her, she pulled off the dark interstate. She had done it and it was truly the worst moment of her life. Fear and uncertainty now consumed her. What would happen next? Randy was the epitome of uncertainty and now she had just lost the best friend she ever had. In love, she and Phil had shared a deep and passionate union. Now that she had betrayed him it was crystal clear he was capable of hating her with the same force and intensity he had once loved her with. For Memphis that was a terrifying concept. There was a thin line between love and hate and she had crossed the line with Phil on one side and Randy on the other. And now Memphis, scared, hurt and alone, was trapped in limbo.


	48. Forever Yours Or Yours For The Moment?

Randy Orton tossed and turned in his bed. It was early morning but still dark outside. It had just turned five a.m. and he was hopelessly awake, much to his dismay. He had one more full day in his High Ridge, Missouri home before going back on the road with the WWE. It had been an uneventful trip home. He had arrived by bus Tuesday afternoon where he crashed for most of the day before meeting up with some old buddies at a local bar. They had drank until the wee hours of the morning until one of them had stuffed the drunken Champ safely inside a cab. Hung over and grumpy, he had spent much of Wednesday moping around the house.

The events of the past Monday night had not been lost on him. He'd had another confrontation with Memphis Kramer but it had been unlike any other. Since their night together she had been aloof and distant, angry and in a constant state of denial. Randy had real feelings for her and he knew she had ones for him and only 48 hours before, she had finally admitted that. He wanted her, he wanted to give it an honest try. Even the mere thought of entering another relationship hadn't crossed his mind since the ugly breakup with Sam. Memphis was the first woman who had reawakened those feelings of intimacy and tenderness that lurked deep inside the Viper. She had promised him that she was going to tell Phil the truth about them. She had given him no definite timeframe except for "soon". He rolled his eyes. Who knew what that meant, how long it would take? And he was damned tired of waiting.

Wednesday had continued with a series of messages left on Randy's voicemail by his mother, Elaine, asking him to come home for a family dinner. It had been his best intention to avoid it. He loved his parents, brother, and sister and for the most part, they all got along. But he just didn't feel like being around people. Elaine's calls had persisted and when his younger sister, Becky, had dropped by with her husband and daughter, he knew he had no choice but to show up. The food was good and the mood was light except for Randy's usual sullenness. He had left a little after ten and gone home alone. He had recently gotten into the show Dexter and had popped in the DVD to catch up, though he barely paid attention to the episodes. He had some pot left in his stash and had taken a few hits off a bowl. Eventually he had drifted off but it had been a restless sleep. And now he was wide awake before the crack of dawn. Randy wandered down to the kitchen. Rummaging through the cabinets, he found the powder he used to make his protein shakes. He mixed it with a whole banana and some Almond Milk. He leaned against the counter, the marble cool against the bare skin of his hips. He favored sleeping nude and since he lived alone, he was used to walking around the house naked whenever he pleased. As he gulped down the contents of his drink, he was oblivious to the headlights that belonged to an unfamiliar car that had just pulled into his driveway.

Memphis rubbed her eyes. She was exhausted and unsure that she was at the right place. Seeing the bike and the Escalade in a neighborhood that favored more conservative, luxurious cars made her feel slightly more at ease that she was at the correct address. It wasn't exactly like you could Google the location. As she had been driving around the state of Illinois aimlessly balling her eyes out, her phone had buzzed with a text from her friend, Melina Perez. Memphis had texted back and after a few minutes, had a random request that had puzzled her friend. She had asked Melina to ask her John for John Cena's phone number. It had seemed odd but trying to think nothing of it, Melina had obliged and quickly obtained the number. Seconds later, Memphis had texted him asking for Randy's phone number and address. The two men were close and John could be trusted. Besides he knew. Memphis had known that he knew right away in Canada when he took one look in her eyes and saw that the guilt written all over her face. It had taken less than five minutes of pondering when Cena had responded with the information she wanted, asking if everything was okay. Memphis hadn't bothered to respond, instead she entered the information into the GPS and began the five hour or so ride to Missouri.

She sat in the driveway, her heart pounding. She was here, now what? What would she say? What would he do? What if it had been all a ruse and some random naked woman was in his bed at that very moment? Memphis pulled the thin jacket closer to her small frame. It was surreal. She was exhausted and still reeling and heartbroken from her angry and emotional confrontation with Phil just hours before. Her heart ached for him. Was he okay? She had even dared to try his cell phone once to find out but as expected, it had gone straight to voicemail. Tearfully she had hung up without leaving a message and now once again when she'd found herself with nowhere to go, she had ended up in Randy Orton's driveway.

Randy sighed as he finished the last drop of the shake. He rinsed the glass out and put it in the already crowded dishwasher before turning on his heels to head back upstairs. Frowning, he stopped when he thought he heard a noise outside. He peered out the window and saw nothing at first but then on second glance, he saw what looked like a red car parked in his driveway. Randy cursed to himself. Sometimes fans just took it too goddamned far. It was one thing to be asked for pictures and autographs at work and in public but the line had to be drawn somewhere and a man's home was the perfect starting point. Looking around, he found a throw on the couch, the only ready material that would wrap completely around his chiseled waist. Bunching it at his hips, he looked at the security camera before disarming the alarm and unlocking the front door. On pure adrenaline alone, he stormed outside, wincing when the freezing pavement made contact with his bare feet. He marched right up to the driver's window and pounded on it.

"Hey! This is private fucking property! You've got 30 seconds to get out of here before I beat your ass or call the police or both!"

A startled Memphis jumped as she found herself being yelled at unexpectedly for the second time that night. Once again she had been given 30 seconds to leave someone's house. With shaking hands, she rolled down the window.

"Randy…" her voice quivered.

Randy made a face. Was he still high? Surely his eyes had to be deceiving him.

"Memphis? Is that you?"

She looked up at him and shivered in the cold morning air.

"You don't have any shoes on…or pants," she noticed. "You must be freezing."

"What, what are you doing here?" he asked.

She bit her lip.

"I had nowhere else to go," she sighed.

She looked sad. Sad, scared, and tired. Reaching over, he pulled on the handle and opened the car door. She turned off the engine and he helped her out as they walked silently to the front door. They entered the warm house and he closed and locked the door behind him. She followed him to the living room and they sat on the couch.

"Did you tell him?" Randy looked right at her.

Memphis nodded and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Yes," she whispered.

Randy was quiet for a few seconds.

"And?"

"He, um, he flipped out. He was hurt, obviously and very mad. He, he said a lot of hurtful things and then…then he asked me to leave. So I did."

Randy studied her.

"How do you feel about that?"

She tried not to cry.

"Incredibly sad and overwhelmed. I, I don't know what to feel or think. God, it was so bad. He was so angry, so upset. I've never seen him like that."

"What did you expect?" Randy posed.

Memphis had no answer.

"I don't know. He had a right to everything he felt, everything he said. He really loved me and I know I hurt him. I did him so wrong."

"What now?" Randy asked.

"I have no idea. It's like my whole world has been turned upside down."

"You have regrets?"

"Randy…"

"For whatever reason, the guy meant something to you. I don't get why but I get that he did. You didn't want to hurt him but the bottom line is, you slept with me. You felt something for me. I know you still do. You can't have it both ways, Memphis. You know where I stand. It's either me or him. You had to make a choice and it sounds like you made it. I'm cool with you feeling bad for cheating on him or whatever but I'm not cool with it if you're gonna have doubts about us. I told you that I want you…all of you. That still stands. But I need you to want me too…all of me. If you don't, then I don't know what the hell we're trying to do."

Memphis stared at him. He was gorgeous, intimidating, complex. He'd had an inexplicable hold on her from day one, one that she could neither explain nor escape. Their chemistry was both explosive and undeniable and that scared the hell out of her. Memphis had given up everything for this man and though her heart was hurting for Phil, deep down, she knew she had made the right choice, the only choice.

"I just lost the best friend I ever had and I hurt someone very deeply that I cared a lot about. That's hard to deal with. It's gonna be even harder seeing him all the time, working with him. I do regret that I lied to him and cheated on him but I don't regret you. I, I want you, Randy. And I want to be with you. My heart, my body yearns for you. When I had nowhere else to turn, when I was driving around tonight crying and lost, I ended up here not just because I didn't have anywhere to go, I came here because I wanted to. I wanted to see you and hold you and be with you. I know this isn't over, that it's just the beginning with Phil and his anger and the drama at work but if it means being with you, then it's worth it to me. I have no regrets. I promised you I would end things with Phil and I did. So here I am. I'm single and I'm all yours if you still want me."

Randy looked up at her and couldn't help but smile. It was the sweetest conquest ever. He had wanted her like he had never wanted anything else and now he had had, all of her.

"Come here," he licked his lips as she rose and joined him.

Memphis hovered over him, slowly, wordlessly removing her jacket, her shirt, her jeans, socks and boots. He watched the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she stood in just her bra and panties. Their eyes locked as she reached behind her back and unfastened the snaps, letting it fall. She put her thumbs on both sides of her panties and slid the material down her long legs. Reaching for the ring on her left hand, she removed the piece of jewelry Phil had so lovingly placed on her finger just a few short months ago. Placing it on the table, she reached down and pulled back the throw that exposed his naked god like body. Memphis crawled on top of him, their heated flesh touching for the first time that night. Looking in his beautiful blue eyes, she knew they had all the time in the world to make love. But for the moment, she just wanted his comfort. She wanted him to make it all better. Sensing her need, Randy pulled her closer to him and covered them with the throw. With their arms and legs entwined, he held her tight, lightly stroking her bare back as she buried her head in his smooth, hard chest. Within minutes she had given way to exhaustion and the sheer emotion of the long night. Looking down at her she looked so peaceful, strong but vulnerable in sleep. He tucked a stray piece of brown hair behind her ear and placed a soft kiss on her temple. Finally he had her right where he wanted her, in his arms. He hadn't been that close to a woman since Sam and when it came to matters of the heart, Randy Orton hid behind a stone wall. He had dared open up to Memphis and she had reciprocated. In doing so, both had opened up a can of worms. For Memphis, the reaction at work and wrath of Phil Brooks was on the line. For Randy, he was facing something even more fearsome. He was facing letting his guard down.


	49. Where Do We Go From Here?

Randy Orton's tour bus pulled up in front of the back entrance to the Kansas Coliseum in Wichita. It came to a stop and Frank opened the doors, emerging from his seat as he instantly reached for his pack of smokes as soon as his feet hit the pavement. It had been a long ride from St. Louis, well over six hours that covered 443 miles of highway. It had only been a few days since her whole world had been turned upside down but already it felt like a lifetime. Somehow she had managed to start to build a secure little nest egg in Chicago with her boyfriend, Phil Brooks, after uprooting from New York at his insistence. Then the affair that had started off as physical but had quickly turned emotional, had forced Memphis Kramer to take a look at her own needs, wants, and mistakes. She had followed her heart and chosen the path that was less safe and certain but in the process that had meant breaking the heart of the man who had loved and taken care of her for seven months. His reaction had been swift and angry, far more severe than she had even imagined. His fury had been tangible, fire burned within his eyes and a venom spewed from his mouth that she never thought would be directed towards her. He had kicked her out of his house in the middle of the night and she had run to the only other place she had to go.

They only had a day together. An exhausted Memphis had woken up in the same spot where she had fallen asleep…resting quietly in Randy's arms. When she moved, he had stirred, slowly opening his blue eyes. Her heart had pounded, filled with fear and uncertainty but for the moment he had managed to calm her giving her a kiss. She had showered and they had spent the day lounging around his spacious two story home. Little had been spoken about their present situation or what had taken place with Phil. Instead it was a quiet day where they were just two lovers cozied up much like any other couple. The next day it had been time to hit the road and go to work, traveling to a neighboring state for a house show. She had left Illinois with just the clothes on her back and had spent the 24 hours in St. Louis wearing one of Randy's oversized Apex Predator tee shirts. She had ventured out to a nearby Target to purchase a few tops and jeans to hold her over and then they had boarded his bus for work.

"You ready?" Memphis heard Randy asking her.

She flinched a little when she felt the pair of lips on the side of her neck.

"Hey."

Randy smirked.

"You alright? A little jumpy there."

"Yeah. Sorry. I'm fine," she slid her shoes back on and began gathering her belongings.

"You have a good ride? You were kind of quiet."

"It was a great ride. Getting to stretch out like that and relax and be able to nap whenever…gosh, it's so awesome. This by far beats the rental car any day."

"That's why I got it and it's well worth the money, too. There's nothing worse than being all cramped up in a little ass car driving five hours to the next city after you're all beat up from being in the ring for 20 minutes."

He stretched his long arms covered in a black fleece. Memphis gave him a smile as they walked to exit the bus. She stepped out first, a small wave of panic washing over her as she secretly prayed that no one else was in the parking lot. No such luck. As soon as the fresh but cold air smacked her in the face, she saw Stephen "Sheamus" Farrelly, Jake "Jack Swagger" Hager and Vickie Guerrero walking inside the building. Matt "Evan Bourne" Korklan and Kofi "Kingston" Sardokie-Menash were standing around in the lot engaged in casual conversation and Michael Cole, along with a few of the other referees were getting out of their rentals. She felt like all eyes were on her and immediately she quickened her pace and hurried inside the building.

"I, I'm gonna go put my stuff up in the female locker room," she turned to Randy.

She went to walk away but he stopped her, grabbing her hand. He smiled and pulled her towards him. Before their lips could touch, Memphis coughed and moved away. Randy raised his eyebrows.

"Damn," he muttered. "Getting the fake cough and the cheek already. What's up with that?"

"Randy…"

"So I guess we didn't do a lot of talking about how this is all gonna play out, especially here at work."

"Yeah," she cleared her throat.

Randy shrugged.

"I mean, you know how I feel about you. I asked you to make a choice and you did so I guess that means that we're together now. I'm not ashamed of that and I don't feel like we have to hide it."

Memphis felt a warm, tingly feeling inside when he stated out loud that they were "together now". She couldn't contain her grin as she reached out for his hand.

"Randy, I want to be with you and I am not ashamed of us either but…"

"But what?"

"I, I don't know. It's kind of weird. I was with Phil for so long and now we're broken up and people are going to want to know why and they're gonna talk…"

"So? When did you start caring what people thought about you?"

"You're right but I don't want to just jump into flaunting this around, not yet. It's nobody's business and it's too soon."

"Are you worried about running into Phil?"

"Eventually yeah but um, they're stepping up his rehab so it's gonna be a few weeks before he comes back so I guess that buys me some time before having to face reality. It's just…"

Randy nodded.

"I get it."

"You do?"

"Whatever you want is cool with me."

"Thank you," she said, exhaling a relieved breath. "Um, I'll catch up with you later."

She made her way down the hall and eventually found the large room the Divas had been assigned to change clothes. Melina Perez was already inside going over her outfits for tonight's show.

"Hey Mija," the Latina beauty reached over and gave her a hug. "How have you been?"

"Fine. You?"

"Can't complain, just trying to figure out what to wear to the ring."

"Luckily I don't have that problem," Memphis quipped. "It's either stripes or stripes."

"Did you get straight the other night?" Melina asked, still rummaging through her bag, not even bothering to look up at her friend.

"Huh?"

"You know, when you needed my John to get John Cena's phone number?"

"Oh…that."

"Did you get in touch with him? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, actually, I…."

Memphis was interrupted when Nattie Neidhart joined them.

"Hello, my lovelies. It's another beautiful day in the neighborhood."

"Why so chipper?" Melina giggled.

"Because I have the best boyfriend in the world."

"What did Prince TJ do now?"

Nattie could barely contain her excitement as she unzipped her bag and proudly showed off the newest addition to her already massive luxury shoe collection.

"Brown suede Christian Louboutin boots, the newest, latest and certainly most bad ass addition to this year's fall/winter collection and my baby surprised me with them, the perfect size, might I add."

"Way to go, TJ," Melina laughed. "He should give John some tips. Having a boyfriend definitely has its perks."

"And speaking of boyfriends, I know of a certain one who is gonna flip when he finds out his girl got off of Randy Orton's bus this afternoon," Nattie narrowed her eyes. "What was up with that one, by the way?"

"Shhhh," Memphis looked around, making sure they were the only ones in the locker room before shutting and locking the door from the inside. "Look, I need to talk to you guys about something."

"Memphis…"

"Phil and I broke up."

"What?" Melina asked, wide eyed.

"Dude, you're kidding," Nattie stared on in disbelief.

Memphis sighed.

"It's true."

"When?"

"Two nights ago?"

"What happened?"

"I…I, um, I broke it off with him."

"But why?" Melina frowned. "I don't get it…"

"Because I don't love him," she blurted out. "Not like he loved me, not like he deserved to be loved back. I, I'm in love with Randy Orton and I guess I have been for a very long time even though I didn't want to admit it."

"Oh my God," Melina put her hand over her mouth. "So I guess that explains the text the other night."

"What text?" Nattie made a face. "Ladies, catch me up here, I am so lost right now."

Memphis took a deep breath.

"I broke up with Phil and he asked why and I was honest about everything and he flipped and said a lot of hurtful things that I really deserved and uh…he kicked me out. I had nowhere to go and I was driving around in circles so I sent Mel a text to get John Cena's number and I got in touch with him and he gave me Randy's address so that's where I went and um, that's where I stayed. That's how come we rode in together this morning."

"Wow," Melina ran her fingers through her dark hair. "So what now? Have you heard from Phil? Are you and Randy like a couple now?"

"I haven't talked to Phil. He was pretty mad when I last saw him. I tried calling but it just goes to his voicemail. I'm pretty worried but I know the last thing he wants is to hear from me. He's the strongest person I know so I feel like he's gonna bounce back and be okay but it just sucks that I hurt him so much. I feel awful, so guilty. He's still out with the injury but he'll be back soon and when he is here, honestly, I don't know how it's gonna be. His reaction, seeing him all the time, Randy…definitely not looking forward to any of that. It's gonna be awkward, to say the least."

"It's gonna be bad."

"I don't doubt that but to answer the question…yes. Randy and I are going to try to make a go out of this. I don't know what the future holds, I guess we have to just wait and see what happens."

"Well, I always said you and Randy had this amazing chemistry," Nattie shrugged. "Can't say I didn't see something like this coming. I feel bad for Phil but you don't get to choose who you fall in love with. It is what it is."

"It's just scary. Letting my guard down and being with and trusting Randy kind of scares me out of my mind. We're not telling anybody yet and that's my choice but I know people are eventually gonna find out. I mean, damn, how long did it take for news to spread that I was on his bus this morning? I just…I don't want to be judged, you know? I know that sounds stupid or whatever cause I made some big mistakes and when you make you bed, you have to lie in it."

"It doesn't sound stupid at all, sweetie," Melina sympathized. "I…I've been there. I've made some mistakes too, many I'm still paying for. It's tough. But it doesn't make you a bad person. Sometimes things just happen. We're only human. You followed your heart and now you just have to learn to trust that. It may work out and it may not but it's too late to turn back now. Whatever happens from now on, you just have to own it and that is going to be the hardest part."

"She's right," Nattie agreed. "But whatever happens, Mel and I are here for you. I mean that. I've got your back. No judgment here."

"Thanks. I appreciate that from both of you. With Randy I…"

There was a sudden knock at the door when the knob wouldn't turn.

"Hello? Anybody in there?"

It was one of the Bella twins.

Memphis walked over to unlock the door. The conversation would have to be over for the minute but she would finish up with her friends later. The conversation and the drama was going to be continued whether she liked it or not.


	50. They Know

The taxi cab driver pulled up to the curb of a private rear entrance at the Stabler Arena in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. He helped the young woman out of the backseat and even loaded her bags onto the walkway. She smiled, thanked, and tipped him. As soon as she turned around, she bumped into the hulking frame of the person who had walked out to greet her.

"Randy!" she could barely contain her excitement.

It took every restraint Memphis could muster to keep herself from jumping into his arms. It had been just over a week since she had called it quits with Phil Brooks and out of respect for him and their closely connected work situation, she had told Randy it was best if they kept things quiet for a while. She had ended up driving from Chicago to the St. Louis suburb of High Ridge to Randy's home. The work week had begun some 36 hours later taking them to a string of house shows throughout the Midwest that eventually led them to Monday Night RAW. Amidst stares and rumors, Memphis had quietly joined Randy for the travel on his bus. Only two people besides the involved trio knew the full story and that was Melina and Nattie, who had vowed to keep their mouths shut, not even sharing the top secret news with John Hennigan and TJ Wilson, their respective significant others.

The backstage rumor mill had begun to churn immediately. Naively, Memphis had been unprepared when several crew members and wrestlers point blank asked her if she and Phil had broken up. Not knowing exactly what to say or having some eloquent response prepared, she had simply answered yes and awkwardly left it at that without further explanation. Once that bit of news had been confirmed, speculation began to run rampant that Memphis Kramer was now dating Randy Orton. Memphis, Randy, Nattie, and Melina had all but ignored the gossip and when the work week ended for them, Memphis had flown straight to Florida for a series of promotional appearances at live FCW events. The spots had been booked in advance for months and for Memphis, it was much needed time to be alone and clear her head. Randy had readily agreed that she could leave her car in his private garage for the time being.

The stint in Florida also bought her a week's worth of time of having to decide on where she was going to live permanently. She had given up her home in Long Island and though her time in New York had been enjoyable, she wasn't in a rush to go back. And Chicago, as awesome as it was, was Phil's city. She had moved there because he had asked her to and that was the place that he loved. She didn't belong there, not without him. It wasn't her home. That was the problem. Memphis didn't have a home. Even going back to Florida, the state where she had grown up didn't feel right. She was a now a nomad and she had decisions to make. Not that it mattered. Some of her belongings were packed in storage locations and she hadn't heard from Phil, who was now in possession of a lot of her personal things left behind at his home. He had said he would forward them to her but after everything that had happened, everything she had done, she didn't have the heart or the balls to contact him to find out when that would be. Besides, they were just material items. Something far more important had been lost in the massive mess she had helped make.

In that time away, she'd had plenty of moments to reflect on her relationship with Phil. They'd had some good times and he was truly a great guy. Knowing he and his friendship were no longer there made her sad. But she also did a lot of thinking about Randy and the possible future they had together. They had been in constant contact while she was in Florida. They texted throughout the day and he made sure to call her before bed at night. It was behavior seemingly uncharacteristic of the Viper but apparently right on point for Randy as a boyfriend. It seemed to put her mind at ease that he was being true. It was genuine interest and care, not just a game or fleeting gratification from a conquest.

"What's up?" he smiled at her.

"Nothing much. Florida was awesome. The fans were great and the people down at FCW were really nice. They took care of me. But I'm glad to be back and um, I'm glad to see you," she said softly. "I missed you."

"You too," he winked, as he grabbed one of her bags, shooting her an intense stare.

"What?" she raised her eyebrows.

"You look so fucking hot right now."

"Let's see…I've got my glasses on, I'm not wearing a stitch of makeup, the Florida humidity turned my hair into a rat's nest which is why I threw it up in this messy ass bun and my track suit is a Super Wal-Mart special because I haven't had time to purchase a new wardrobe yet."

Randy shrugged as they entered the building.

"And you still look fucking hot. What does that say?"

"It says somebody is horny," Memphis giggled.

"Baby, I'm always horny."

She smiled to herself as she loaded her luggage into the female locker room. Randy waited patiently outside for a few minutes until she came out and they headed to Catering together. Memphis made sure to keep a comfortable distance between them. The food service area was buzzing with people. Memphis moved quickly throughout the line as she fixed her plate. She was friendly and full of polite smiles and brief greetings to co-workers, crew members and arena staff alike.

"Hey, good looking."

Memphis looked up and grinned. It was Mike the Miz.

"Hey yourself. How's it going?"

"Can't complain and even if I did, who the hell would listen? Was Florida cool?"

"Yeah. I had a good time. You're doing appearances there all next week, right?"

"Yep. Just Tampa and Daytona Beach."

"Is Daytona ready for the Miz and A Ri?" Memphis joked.

"How about the Miz and the lovely Maryse?"

"Aaaahhh, I get it. How romantic. Congratulations, dude."

"Speaking of, I heard about you and Phil. Tough break."

"It happens," she nervously cleared her throat.

"You did rebound pretty quick," Mike looked over his shoulder to where Randy was toasting an egg salad sandwich.

"Excuse me?"

"Getting slinky with the Viper," he laughed.

"Mike…"

"Personally, I like Phil a whole lot better. He's a good dude but hey, I wasn't the one sleeping with him. You gotta do you, whatever makes you happy and if that's Orton, go for it."

"Mike, I'm not with, I mean, what makes you think Randy and me have something going on?"

"Cause it's totally obvious."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well, that's odd because we're friends."

"Don't give me that tired ass line," Mike chuckled. "Friends my ass. I'm willing to put up a grand that you're doing him."

"Mike!" she swatted at him.

"What? Come on. You can't tell me that you haven't hit that, at least once."

Memphis nervously looked around.

"There are only a couple of Crab salad stuffed pitas left. I, I don't want to miss out. Um, I'll catch up with you later," she lamely excused herself.

Cursing out loud, she sat at the chair as far opposite Randy as possible.

"What's your deal?" he asked between bites of his sandwich.

"They know."

"Who the hell are these mysterious theys?" he posed sarcastically.

Memphis looked around.

"Everybody. God, Randy. I mean, a few people asked me about Phil last week and yeah, I admitted we broke up but the way people are whispering and staring and saying stuff. They all know that you and I have something going on."

"You make like that is a bad thing."

"It's not but it's just too soon."

Randy took a swig of water.

"You worry too much, you know that?"

She made a face.

"And you don't worry enough."

"Cause you do it enough for the both of us."

It was something oddly cute about the way he said that. It melted her heart and brought a giddy smile to her face. Maybe he was right. People were going to find out anyway. People were going to talk. Then they would move on. It was just part of the vicious gossip cycle. She had already been through that with the WWE locker room. Things were going to happen and she had limited control over it. What was the point in worrying about things she couldn't change?

"You're right," she tried to relax.

"Most of the time," he smirked.

She laughed and he reached over and used his napkin to wipe away the crab salad on the corner of her lip. Memphis blushed. It was a sweet gesture.

"Thank you," she shyly bit at her lip.

"You're beautiful," Randy polished off his bottle of water.

"Stop it," she giggled again.

He pretended to drop the empty bottle which so happened to land by her foot. Memphis went to pick it up at the same time as Randy. Their hands grazed across each other and it felt like a million tiny electric shocks racing through her body. He leaned over towards her ear and whispered huskily.

"Do you know what I'm gonna do to you on my bus after the show tonight? I'm gonna take your clothes off…so fucking slow. Taking my time, kissing your lips, your neck. By the time I get your bra and panties off you're gonna be begging for it, begging for my big cock to pound the hell out of your tight little pussy. But I'm gonna make you wait for it. Unsnap your bra and get your nipples all hard with my fingertips. Then I'll pull your panties off with my teeth…kiss all over your thighs…blow all over your clit. Then I'll stick one, no two fingers inside you while I'm licking all around down there. And when you're about to lose it, when you're about to come everywhere, I'll stop right before I ram my rock hard dick inside you."

Memphis felt all the air leave her body and the blood rush to her head among other locations in her body. Randy Orton was the sexiest man alive and he was hers. The mind blowing sex he had given her for the first time months ago was now hers to have whenever she wanted it. More than anything, she wanted to throw everything off that table, climb on top of it and fuck the hell out of her boyfriend.

"Memphis, hi," Vickie Guerrero peered over the corner just as an evilly smirking Randy and an equally flushed Memphis raised to an appropriate sitting position.

"Vickie," she managed in a weak voice.

"Hi honey. Was just wondering if you'd have some time later to talk about the FYE signing we're supposed to do together tomorrow. Looks like they didn't set transportation up so I figured we could ride together in my rental, if that's okay."

"What? I mean, yeah. Um, sure. Sounds, sounds good. I'll come find you before the show starts tonight."

"Excellent. By the way, I was so sorry to hear about you and Phil but congrats on the new relationship. Randy, she's a great girl. Make sure you take care of her."

"But…" Memphis started to protest.

Vickie had already started to walk away. Hanging her head, she tried to regain her bearings as Randy's eyes twinkled devilishly.

"Are your panties still wet?" he teased.

Memphis balled up her napkin and threw it at him.

"Shut up! See what I'm saying? Vickie knew. Miz knew. They all know, Randy. Dammitt!"

"Maybe you could have denied it better if your eyes didn't have that glazed over look they get right after you have an orgasm."

Memphis shot him a warning look.

"Not funny, dude."

"I'll make it up to you later," he said as they stood and began gathering their trash to throw away.

Memphis had to bite back a moan at the thought. Randy always knew just how to distract her. Convinced that everyone was staring at them and knowing what they were up to, Memphis scurried out of the dining room, eyes focused forward. The hallway to wrestlers' dressing areas was all but deserted. Before they made their way to the female locker room, Randy stopped, looked to make sure no one was looking and then pulled his girlfriend into a small, darkened and abandoned conference room. She whimpered as his mouth began to devour hers. His kisses always felt so good. And so did his hands that were now squeezing and exploring her bottom.

"Oh my God," she tried to stifle her cries. "I want you so bad."

"What's stopping you?" he growled.

Letting reality and common sense take over emotion and sheer horniness, Memphis reluctantly pulled herself together.

"We can't. Not here. And you know why."

Randy just grinned before kissing her lips once more, smacked her playfully on the behind and walking away to get ready for his own match.

"It's cool. I'll fuck you later."

Watching him walk away, looking like hot sex on two feet, Memphis could only shudder. Randy Orton was like an addiction. She craved everything about him and the immense satisfaction he brought to her outweighed any emotion, any thought process and any consequence imaginable. Him being a part of her world had subsequently caused it to turn upside down. She could only pray that in the end, it, he was worth it.


	51. Pay Up

The Elimination Chamber was the last big pay per view before Wrestlemania. The RAW event had John Cena versus John Morrison versus Sheamus versus The Miz versus Randy Orton versus R Truth. It was one of the most dangerous matches in the WWE and Memphis Kramer wanted to officiate it so bad that she could taste it. She had lobbied early for it, asking as soon as the card of participants had been announced. She had been told her request would be "considered" and Memphis knew what that meant. Though the general outline of events was choreographed and the endings pre-determined, it was still a volatile situation to be in the middle of. Anything could happen. Her biggest opponent had been Vice President of Talent Relations, John Laurinaitis. He had been adamant that a female not be involved in the matchup. It was too much of a liability. But Vince McMahon had other ideas. The sexy young referee had set the WWE on fire. She was good at what she did and the fans loved her. The element of danger made it that much more exciting. Two days before the show, Memphis had been informed that she had gotten the gig.

She stood in the Gorilla position, heart pounding. When it was time for the Main Event, she walked down the ramp to the usual thunderous applause. Several of her male counter parts were on hand outside the Chamber. They were none too thrilled with taking a back seat to her but what else was new? Memphis had long accepted that she would never fully gain their approval so she had given up trying and worrying about it long ago. Tonight, this was a milestone in her career and she was going to take the opportunity and run with it. It had been said many times over but nights, moments like that, made her realize she was rewriting history for women in the sports entertainment industry.

The large chain length circle of steel enclosed the ring. The Chamber's floor was platformed over the ringside area which elevated it to ring level. Four chambers had been placed in each corner. The bout would begin with two men facing off in the ring, with the other four opponents being held back in the pods. Each would be released in increments of five minutes. The object was to eliminate each participant via pin fall or submission. The referee had a key role in a match like this. Timing was of the essence and with so much simultaneous activity, it was important to stay on top of things and maintain control.

She stood in the center of the ring as one by one, each wrestler came down. When she heard the theme Voices, chills ran down her spine. Randy Orton slithered down to the ring as the fans again went wild. He was focused, in full Viper mode. It was just something about the way he looked at her, almost as if he were looking through her. But the minute the bell rang, it was time to concentrate on the match. Randy was fired up, wasting little time going after any man in his path. He had been engaged in a feud with The Miz and the two men went at it like two raging bulls. It came down to them being the last men standing. They went back and forth putting on a show for five minutes of old school hand to hand combat. Memphis received the cue from Production via her earpiece and gave the subtle hand sign to let them know that it was time. Three and a half minutes later, Randy polished off his formidable adversary with a devastating RKO heard and felt all around the building. After the pin, his music began again and the feeling inside the ring, inside that Chamber with him was absolutely electrifying. Clearly he was the top guy in the company and his roadway to Wrestlemania in Atlanta was being paved in gold.

After exchanging a sly smile and a wink, Memphis exited the ring first. She made it to the spacious female locker room that was abuzz with most of the Divas. They were showering, chatting, and congregating. Memphis removed her fitted striped ref's shirt and placed it in the bag reserved for her dirty clothes. Kicking off her shoes, she took a seat on the bench to just relax and come down from the adrenaline high she had just received. A few minutes later, the door opened and Melina walked in. Immediately she ran over to her friend and gave her a sweaty hug.

"Somebody wants to see you outside," she mentioned.

Memphis frowned. It was probably Randy. Holding up a towel in front of her black bra, she peeked outside the main door. It wasn't her boyfriend. Instead she found herself face to face with four of her peers, fellow officials, Justin King, Rod Zapata, Chad Patton and Mike Chioda.

"Can I help you?" she visibly tensed.

Justin cleared his throat and spoke first.

"Hey Memphis. We're sorry to bother you but we just wanted to come say, good job."

"Excuse me," she made a face, taken aback.

"I know this is a long time coming but we were jerks…all of us. Some more than others but it doesn't matter anymore. Wrong is wrong. You really proved yourself out there tonight like you have so many other nights. You deserve your spot here and on behalf of everyone who ever gave your grief, I apologize.'

Rod stepped up next.

"Justin is right. You work your ass off every single night just like the rest of us and we were wrong not to give you respect. Tonight was great and we just wanted to let you know that. Hopefully we can all call a truce."

Chad sighed heavily.

"What can I say? We were all asses. It's not right. I hope you can forgive us."

Mike hung his head.

"We're sorry."

Memphis couldn't believe it. They had put her through hell. They had made her feel unwelcome and inferior since she had arrived. Their opinions weren't supposed to matter but deep down inside it did, to her. She'd had to work extra hard to prove herself, to prove that she belonged inside that ring just like they did. All she had ever really wanted was their respect and acceptance. Now, out of the blue, she was getting it.

"Wow," she swallowed hard. "I, I don't know what to say…"

"It's been a long time coming but better late than never," Justin extended his hand.

They didn't deserve her forgiveness but Memphis knew she had to be the better person, the bigger person. They might never be friends but they were professionals and they had to co-exist.

"Thank you," she said quietly as she shook his hand and the hands of the three that followed.

With solemn but respectful nods, they walked away. Memphis turned around to where all the girls had gathered behind her. With grins on their faces and tears in their eyes, they all applauded in unison. Grinning, Memphis joined Melina on the private bench in the corner of the locker room.

"Wow," Melina mouthed.

"Wow is right. That was…random."

"Unexpected, huh?"

"Hell yes but um…it was nice. I've gone through a lot and I'm tired, Mel. I don't want tension or arguments or drama anymore."

"I'm happy for you. You deserved that. Nobody believed in you when you first got here and you showed them all."

Memphis looked away sadly.

"One person did…" her voice trailed off.

It was one of those moments that she normally would have grabbed her phone and called Phil to tell him what happened. She couldn't do that anymore.

"It's okay, sweetie," she rubbed her shoulder. "I know it's rough."

"Thanks."

"But that match was epic tonight. I'm serious. It was the best Elimination Chamber yet! And you totally owned it. I mean that, chica, you just rocked it!"

"I don't know about all that but thank you. How is John, by the way? Have you seen him?" Memphis asked.

Melina nodded.

"He's fine. A little beat up but all the guys are. But he's gonna be okay. He's getting iced down now and then we're gonna take off for the hotel. Hopefully a hot shower before bed will help but no matter what he does, I'm sure he's gonna feel it later."

"Ran probably will too but he's flying so high from tonight he probably won't even notice."

Melina began packing up.

"Hey Memphis, do you happen to have your laptop back here?"

"Yeah, um, I think I brought it in. Check my backpack over there by my purse."

"Found it," Melina said after a few seconds of looking. "You mind if I log on to the Internet? My phone is dead."

"I don't care. Let me guess, a must send tweet you forgot to send to all your followers?" Memphis teased.

"No, Miss Smarty Pants. Actually…"

"What?"

Melina sighed as she clicked away.

"Never mind. You'll just think it's dumb."

"Girl, I'm just messing with you. Come on. Lay it on me. Even if it's weird porn, no judgment here," she grinned.

Melina looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to them.

"I was online earlier and saw my Twitter name kept coming up in some of my follower's timelines. So I checked it out and how about Superstar Scoop is trying to start drama again."

"What now?" Memphis rolled her eyes.

"They said some ring rat blogged that she slept with JoMo."

"Are you for real?"

"Yeah. It really pissed me off. I mean, people post lies all the time. Most of the time it sounds like that bad fan fiction crap but this really bothered me because they're feeding into it. When it stays on blogs and Tumblr and stuff like that, whatever, but Superstar Scoop has a lot of mainstream connections and stuff."

"Do you believe it?"

"No," she said reluctantly. "Look, John and I have been together a very long time and we've had our problems. Unfortunately with both of us being in the public eye, all our mistakes and dirty laundry gets aired out on the dirt sheets for the world to see. It sucks and it pisses me off but I get it. He's cheated on me before and I've been unfaithful to him but that's the past and we've both tried to put that behind us. I love my man and I trust him so no, I don't believe it."

"So what does it matter? People are gonna talk and sometimes, for whatever reason, they lie. Don't waste your time feeding into that nonsense and worrying about it. You can't stop them, you can't control them so just let it go."

"I am."

"Babe, no you're not. You're borrowing my computer to see what they're saying about you. Obviously you're letting it get to you. Don't. It's not worth it, I'm telling you."

"I know, I know. You're right. But I just want to see this one thing…"

Memphis shook her head. She felt bad for her friend and she wondered why people got a kick out of printing things that intentionally hurt other people.

"They still talking shit?"

Melina's face grew pale.

"No," she closed the laptop immediately.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You look like you just saw a ghost. Is everything alright, Melina?"

"I…"

"Mel, talk to me."

Melina exhaled.

"Come here. Sit down."

Memphis did as she was told, prepared to offer some moral support because her friend look like she really needed it.

"It's going to be alright. You are a good person and so is John. Nobody knows your relationship but you and it's no one else's business anyway. Keep your head up and know you're better than some bunch of nosy ass gossiping idiots."

"You mean that?" Melina looked right at her.

"Of course."

Without another word, Melina turned the screen so that Memphis could see it.

_**CM Punk Gets Punk'd**_

_Though just a couple weeks ago she was spotted outside an arena all smiles signing autographs for fans while smooching boyfriend CM Punk (real name Phillip Brooks), this morning en route to the Elimination Chamber pay per view, pro wrestling's sexiest referee, Memphis Kramer, was spotted closerthanthis with champ, Randy Orton. According to our secret sources, Kramer has been traveling to and from shows with Orton on his private tour bus for the last two weeks. Punk has been off the active roster rehabbing a hip injury. We all know the Viper gets more ass than a toilet seat and many a Diva (and ring rat) has fallen victim to his good looks, fat wallet and the fact that he is the resident locker room leader. Did Kramer upgrade from the WWE's own version of a Waffle House short order cook look alike? If so, she better be careful. Don't get too comfortable, sweetheart. The Apex Predator has that love 'em and leave 'em reputation. You might end up leaving your heart (and your panties) in San Francisco and end up with Memphis Blues (pun totally intended) or at the very least, crabs. Don't worry, if that happens, there's always John Cena._

Memphis read the editorial in disbelief and horror. Next to it were several photos of she and Randy taken in various locations over the previous week. Though there was no money shot of them kissing, as they had been careful in public, the photos did show he and Memphis leaving his bus, standing close together looking lovingly at each other, Randy helping her with her bags, his tenderly leaning down and whispering in her ear. They looked like lovers and it was no denying their chemistry.

"You okay, Mija?"

"Oh. My. God…"

"Sweetie, I am so sorry…"

"I can't believe this," she whispered. "How dare they?"

"They're vultures, idiots."

Memphis ran her fingers through her long hair.

"I, I knew it was gonna get out. I knew I wouldn't be able to protect Phil's feelings but so much but goddammitt, I wanted it to come out on my terms, Mel. This article, these damned pictures make me sound and look like a money grubbing, power hungry, dirty ass slut. It's not like that. I'm not trying to screw my way around the locker room. I don't want Phil to see this and get the wrong idea. I don't want to flaunt this. Randy and I were wrong, dead wrong for the affair…I cop to that. But don't drag my name through the mud and try to make me look the bad guy, like a whore. Nobody can possibly make me feel any guiltier, any worse than I already do. They don't know me. They don't know the whole story," her voice rose with anger.

Melina wrapped her arm around her.

"It's going to be okay. Let's just get our stuff and get out of here, okay?"

Memphis shook her head and refused to let the tears that were staring to threaten, fall down her cheeks.

"This isn't right. It isn't fair. It's bullshit! This is nobody's business but mine, Phil's and Randy's."

"I know."

Memphis rested her weary head on her friend's shoulder. What was left of her secret was now out. It was time to pay the piper. And no amount of anger, explaining or crying was going to justify it or make any of it better.


	52. Coming Out Party

Another sold out WWE house show ended and as the last of the crowd was filing out of the arena, Memphis Kramer still dressed in her referee's uniform, sat in a secluded back section of the building. Resting on the staircase, she hugged her knees to her chest, grateful for the warmth of her black hoodie. Playing with one of the strings, she sighed. It had been a busy 24 hours. Just the night before she had learned from her friend Melina Perez that sports entertainment's most notorious dirt sheet had let the proverbial cat out of the bag about her breakup with Phil Brooks and subsequent hookup with Randy Orton. She could feel the prying eyes of everyone backstage but truth be told, it wasn't exactly breaking news. In the few short days the RAW crew had been back on the road, it hadn't taken rocket science to figure out what was really going on. Still Memphis was plagued with anxiety. Phil had not yet returned but his comeback was imminent and the very thought washed a wave of sheer panic mixed with nausea over her. It was a very chaotic time in her life and it wasn't getting any easier any time soon. That fact she had already learned to accept.

"What's up, you?"

Memphis raised her head. She was a little surprised to see Randy standing over her.

"Hey. What are you doing here?"

"I was looking all over for you."

"I just came up here to clear my head, I guess. I needed a minute."

He took a seat beside her.

"Everything alright with you?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "Sure."

He shot her an all knowing look.

"Don't lie to me."

"Am I that transparent?" she looked right at him, with a slight chuckle.

Randy sighed.

"Nah, just a bad liar. It's been a weird few days, few weeks even."

"You can say that again."

It was still taking time to get used to, the new reality. The night before they had stayed in a suite at a local downtown hotel. After the show she had boarded his bus and once inside the room, she had taken a hot shower. When she emerged, she had found him waiting naked on the king sized bed. Her heart had raced, shallow breath catching in her throat as the cool air from the thermostat sent chills up and down her damp skin. She couldn't resist his swagger or his body for that matter. Their eyes met and the minute he touched her it was like a thousand electric shocks. The chemistry they shared was magnetic, explosive even. They had ended up making passionate love for hours which had started to become a nightly ritual. Afterwards Memphis had fallen asleep in his arms and she had woken up there. It felt good. She felt happy…and safe but now the road trip was about to end and that fact brought about a sobering uncertainty.

"You just look like something important is on your mind, that's all."

"I'm okay. Really," she attempted to blow it off.

Randy did not looked convinced.

"Memphis, you know, this thing between us is never gonna work if you don't talk to me."

"What? Randy…"

"This is different. I get it. It's weird for me, too. I'm not the relationship type of guy. I usually don't take the time to chase females down and beg them to communicate their feelings. That shit ain't me, never has been. But I told you…I care about you. Yeah, we have great sex but I thought it was gonna be more than that. I mean, if you don't even feel comfortable enough to tell me what's wrong with you…"

"The road trip ends tonight," she blurted out. "We have four whole days off between the next set of shows."

"I know. Pretty cool, huh? That shit happens like only twice a year but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Last week I was busy with the FCW gig but um now…it kind of hit me. I gave up my place in Long Island and now that Phil and I aren't together, I don't know what to do. I hadn't really thought about it until now but I'm basically homeless."

"There's been a lot going on. Have you thought about going back and getting another place in New York?"

"New York was okay but I don't know if that's what I want."

"What about Chicago?"

"Chicago is beautiful, it's a great city, it really is and I like it there but let's face it, that's Phil's place, not mine. I only moved there because of him. I don't know if getting an apartment there is the right thing to do. I don't know if I will ever be happy there."

"You've got some heavy decisions to make but the good thing is, you really don't have anything tying you down. You've got the money and the freedom…just pick a place on the map and go. You could move anywhere you want to really."

Memphis looked away sadly.

"I suppose you're right. That sounds all fine and good. The problem is I just don't know where to go."

"You'll figure it out."

She rested her head on her knees. Of course she would figure it out, she always did. She was used to being a nomad. She had lived many places, chasing love, chasing big dreams but nowhere had ever quite felt like home.

"I've got a lot to think about. I'm probably just gonna head out early to the next city…"

"Memphis, don't be stupid."

"Randy, I…"

"Come back to St. Louis with me."

She took a deep breath. It was a new relationship and as Randy had already professed, he wasn't normally the relationship kind of guy. When she had left Phil and things had been dark and lonely, she had fled to Missouri to be with him. And for two weeks he had provided remarkable comfort. But she knew it wasn't reasonable to assume that they could fall right into a blissful domestic routine that would have her moving to St. Louis. That would never work.

"I can't do that," she whispered.

"Why not?"

"It's too soon. I mean, what are we gonna do? Move in together? Me get an apartment somewhere near your place? Randy, that's just plain stupid. It would never work and you know that, we both know it. I can't just move to some city again for a guy."

"I didn't say anything about any of that. Damn, you always get so worked up about everything. You're jumping the gun."

"What?"

"Look, I know you're stressed cause you're in a tight spot about finding a permanent place to live but like I said, I know you'll figure all that out. You've got time, Memphis. It's not like you're on a timeline or anything. Nothing has to be decided right away. Right now you've got stuff at my house, including your car. It would be crazy to try to make a big decision in the next 48 hours. Just relax and come back to St. Louis with me. And you can do that the next week and the next. I'm not asking you to move in with me or even move to St. Louis. I'm just trying to take a load off of you and let you know you have somewhere to go for a few weeks before you figure out where you're gonna move for good."

Memphis was speechless for a few moments.

"You mean that?"

"Wouldn't have said it if I didn't."

"Thank you," she said softly. "It's just that I didn't…"

"Expect me to say something like that?"

"I guess so. I, I'm sorry. I guess I need to start giving you a little more credit."

"That would be nice."

"It's hard for me, Randy. I took a major gamble on this, on you and it's scary still."

His blue eyes softened a bit.

"I get it. I know I haven't always been the kind of guy people could count on. But I'm trying now."

She smiled.

"You are and I know it's not just for me or for us. I am so proud of you and how far you have come since we met."

"So are you gonna chill on this flying off early to the next city nonsense and come hang out with me for a few days? It'll be fun."

"Yes," she breathed a sigh of relief. "I would really like that."

"Me too. And you know what else I would like?"

Memphis raised an eyebrow.

"Sex?"

Randy smirked.

"I'm always down for that but there's something else."

"What's that?"

"Memphis, I want us to quit hiding."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, you know what I mean. I get it that you don't want to rub anything in Phil's face but he's a big boy, Memphis. He's going to have to learn how to deal with this sooner or later. You broke up with him, now you and I are together. I don't want to hide anymore. We shouldn't have to. If we're going to do this, then let's do it for real."

"Randy…"

"Everybody already knows anyway. And they don't care, not that it is any of their business anyway. But what are you so afraid of? Or maybe I should ask what you're so ashamed of?"

Memphis exhaled before taking his hand in hers.

"I know that everyone knows. I can't be naïve anymore. If they didn't, Superstar Scoop took great pleasure in letting the cat out of that bag and I guess something like that was bound to happen. And yeah, a part of me is afraid, I will admit that. Afraid to be with you and let my guard down. Afraid to hurt Phil even more and very afraid of what is going to happen once he comes back. That is going to take time to get over and the only way to do it is to face it head on. I understand that. But I'm not ashamed of you, Randy or of us, that I promise you."

"Do you mean that?"

She gave him a shy smile.

"Wouldn't have said it if I didn't."

Without another word, he reached for his iPhone and began thumbing away at the screen on his phone.

"Done," he looked her right in the eye when he was all finished.

"What was that? Who were you texting?"

"I wasn't texting anybody, I was tweeting."

Memphis felt her heart skip.

"What, wait, why are you tweeting? What did you tweet?"

He showed her the Twitter screen on his phone.

_Headed back home for rare 4 days with my girl, Memphis K. Been hanging out, it's official. #GoodTimes_

She sucked in a breath.

"There it is," Randy proclaimed.

"Yeah," she swallowed hard. "There it is."

"Let's get out of here," he looked around. "You hungry?"

It had been hours since her last meal.

"Um, yeah, I guess I could eat."

"Come on, I'm starving."

He extended his hand and helped her up. When she accepted, he squeezed it and they walked hand in hand back towards the main part of the arena. Most of the crew and talent was still hanging around and when Randy and Memphis approached, all eyes seemed to be on them.

"What the hell is all this?" Ted DiBiase Jr. asked with a frown. "Is it really true, those stupid rumors?"

Randy stopped and looked right at Memphis who was nervously biting at her lip. He leaned down and gave her a full kiss on the mouth in front of everybody.

"That answer your question?" he asked when he finally pulled away. "Any more?"

"But dude…"

"DiBiase, go kick some rocks barefoot," Randy smirked as he proudly led his girl out the back door to the warm and comfortable bus that was waiting for them.

As they boarded, Memphis closed her eyes. It was official. She and Randy were official. There was no turning back now.


	53. Day I

Memphis stirred in her sleep before sinking deeper into the covers. The bed felt so warm and good and she felt like she could stay there forever. Late the night before she and Randy had taken the red eye into St. Louis. They had loaded their belongings into his black Escalade that was waiting in the parking garage of the airport and made the drive to the suburb of High Ridge where he lived. Shortly before dawn, exhausted, they had collapsed into his king sized bed and fallen asleep in each other's arms. She had been too tired to notice that he had gotten up a few hours later. Only when he came back to bed and began kissing her neck did she fully wake up.

"What are you doing? It's way too early," she groaned with a half-smile.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

"What time is it?"

"Almost 11 and uh, time for you to get up."

"Why the big rush?"

"I've got something planned for us."

Memphis raised one eyebrow.

"What is it?"

"It's a surprise."

"Randy…"

He motioned over to the plate he had in his hands. It was scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon, and toast. He had also poured her a glass of orange juice.

"Here. I made you something to eat. It's not much but I figured you'd be hungry and I thought you might want to eat before we head out."

She sat up and yawned, stretching her arms.

"You made me breakfast in bed? Aw, babe, thank you. That is so sweet."

She leaned up and kissed his lips, a kiss that he deepened and almost delayed breakfast with. But Randy was adamant about getting on the road so Memphis quickly scarfed down the spread and started getting ready. She took a quick shower alone and dressed in jeans, boots, a sweater, and a leather jacket. The weather was still cold out and she had no idea what her boyfriend had up his sleeve. He greeted her downstairs wearing a similar ensemble.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be. Just curious as to where you're taking me."

Randy grinned.

"You'll find out soon enough," he said, leading her to the garage.

He handed her his backpack along with a helmet as he put one on himself and fired up his motorcycle. Memphis bit her lip. She had always found something about a bike incredibly sexy. Seeing Randy turn back around and look at her with those sexy lips and blue eyes only added to the fantasy. Giving him a little smirk of her own, she put the helmet on before slipping the straps of the backpack over her slender shoulders and boarded the back of the motorcycle. She wrapped her arms securely around his chiseled waist and slowly they pulled out of the garage onto the driveway onto the neighborhood street and finally onto the Interstate. It was cold outside but the warm and happy feeling that consumed her on the inside more than made up for it. Randy took an exit and a few miles later they ended up at Lake Saint Louis. He parked the bike in a secluded area right near the water and he helped her off.

"Wow," she looked around, taking in the scenery. "This is so beautiful."

The water seemed to go for miles. Randy's home was on a much smaller lake but the view from where they stood was nothing short of exquisite.

"Yeah, we used to come out here all the time when I was a little kid. My mom would pack these picnic lunches," he recalled with a chuckle. "It was always ham sandwiches and homemade potato salad with Sunny Delight."

"That doesn't sound bad. Maybe she could have switched it up a little bit sometimes."

Randy shrugged as he unzipped the backpack and pulled out a blanket, spreading it on the ground so they could sit.

"They probably had an ongoing sale on the ham and the Sunny D," he made a joke.

They sat and he wrapped an arm around his girlfriend.

"I know you told me about it the time we were stuck in that elevator but you guys had some pretty hard times, huh?" she treaded in a soft voice.

"Yeah. I mean, my old man was this famous wrestler and stuff so you would have thought that we were living high on the hog but it was far from it. He, um, he's a good man. I love him. I look up to him. He has always been my hero but it sucked that he squandered all that money away. I remember being a little kid talking to Becky and Nathan, my sister and brother, saying why does he keep making all these bad decisions, we're poor. It was rough."

"People make mistakes, babe. And yeah it's bad when they don't learn from them. I'm sorry your family had to go through all that. But they're alright for money now, your parents?"

"They're okay. My mom still works as a nurse. My dad draws a small pension and I've had to help them out a few times but it is what it is. What can you do? That's blood. I couldn't let my folks lose their house."

"You're a good son."

"I don't know about all that. I've put them through hell with some of the shit I've pulled. There's nothing worse than making your mother cry or having your father look you in the eye with this look of disappointment and shame."

Memphis rubbed the back of Randy's neck.

"Like I said, we all make mistakes. Your parents don't judge you for all the bad stuff you've done in the past just like you didn't hold your dad's mistakes against him."

"I used to. I don't like saying it but a part of me used to hate him. I hated him for a lot of shit. I hated him for our money problems, I hated him for always stressing my mom out, I hated him for especially for not being there. He was gone a lot. The travel schedule was just as insane back then. It was weird cause it was like I was so proud of him but at the same time, I resented him for choosing wrestling over us. Looking back now, especially being a WWE Superstar myself, I know it's just part of the job but when you're a little kid and you want your old man to come to your little league game, I guess you just don't see it that way."

Memphis gave him a thoughtful look. He was opening up to her unexpectedly with amazing candor. She liked that. She liked getting to know more about him. It only cemented the fact that it was more to their relationship than just great sex. They were a real couple.

"What about you?" she asked him. "Do you want kids eventually?"

"Eventually. I know I'm not ready now. You know what happened with Hannah Wilson scared the shit out of me. I guess I just want to do it the right way, you know? Meet a good girl, settle down, start a family…but it would be hard not being around. And I don't ever want my kids to feel about me like I used to feel about my dad."

Memphis sighed.

"It's tough on kids when the parents aren't around."

"What about you? You ever want kids?"

"I've thought about it. I like kids. I mean, if it happens, it happens. If I meet the right guy and it's the right time…who knows? I definitely wouldn't be opposed to it. But at the same time, if it never happened, I don't think it will make my life any less. I won't look back with regret or at least I hope I won't."

Randy looked her right in the eye.

"You're tough."

"I've had to be to make it this far."

"I have always liked that about you."

She giggled and rolled her eyes.

"No, you didn't."

"What are you talking about?"

"That is the very thing that made you hate me when we first met. God, you were such a douche bag to everybody and yeah part of me felt like just going along with you to keep the peace but when I thought about it, I was like fuck it. Why should I kiss this guy's ass? He has a hard on for me and I didn't do a damn thing to deserve it."

Randy couldn't help but smirk.

"Nobody had ever stood up to me like you did, talked to me that way. Hell, you did what grown men have been wanting to do in that locker room for ten years but haven't had the balls. Yeah, it pissed me off but it is a part of what made me like you too."

"Really?"

"It was kind of hot. Besides, I knew you would be good in bed."

"Oh shut up," she laughed and gave him a soft punch in the arm.

"What? I'm serious. And admit it, even when we were at each other's throats, you thought about me in bed."

"No way."

"Memphis…"

She blushed, grinning and looking away.

"Maybe a few times…"

"See? I fucking knew it."

"Don't go getting a big head about it and everything," she joked.

Randy pulled her closer.

"I like this," he said in a quiet voice.

"What?"

"You. This. Being here like this, just hanging out…talking. It's kind of nice."

Memphis kissed his lips. It was nice.

"Thank you for bringing me here. It's so pretty and calm and quiet. And uh, I like being with you, too, spending time together. It has been a crazy few weeks and all I want to do is forget about it. I don't want to think about the future as far as moving or what is going to happen when Phil gets back. All I want is to concentrate on the now, on the present. We have four days off and all I want to do is be with you. I want to talk with you, Randy, and relax with you and laugh with you and make love with you."

"Sounds like a good plan," he said, kissing her again, lying back and pulling Memphis on top of him.

They continued to make out for a little while longer, just enjoying each other's company.

"Mmmmm, I like hanging out here but maybe we should take this back to your house."

"What's wrong with right here?" Randy breathed between kisses.

Memphis giggled.

"Um, it's freezing out here, are you kidding me?"

She could feel his hardness pressing against her thigh.

"It is kind of cold so I'll let you off the hook today but come summertime we are gonna fuck like rabbits out here."

"Oh baby, you're so poetic and romantic."

She was only teasing him. Inside she felt deliriously happy. It was easy to feel that way when Randy spoke that way in terms of a possible future for them. He was still complex, he was still layered, he still had his faults and flaws but beneath it all was a man, brave yet scared, learning how to face his demons and battle evil. Memphis was still nervous, still uncertain but when she looked into his eyes, it took all the panic away. And that day had been the start of something great. She had been nervous about four entire days together, she had been terrified about the status of their relationship as whole. Being with Randy was a gamble. Not only had she sacrificed Phil's love and stability, she had hurt him deeply and lost one of the best friends she had ever had. But her feelings for Randy Orton could not be ignored. And lying in his arms, laughing and happy and feeling incredibly safe, nothing else mattered. She was falling head over heels in love with the Viper and a part of her dared dream that the feeling might be mutual.


	54. Day II

It had been a good second of four days at home from the chaos of the road. That morning, Randy Orton had slept in. It felt great not having to be at work, not having to make a media appearance at a certain time, usually at an ungodly hour. It felt even better to have the warm and naked body of his girlfriend, Memphis Kramer lying peacefully next to him. The night before after a glorious day at Lake St. Louis, they'd had dinner at a local Italian restaurant and spent the majority of the night making love. Their heated session had rolled over into the morning light. Sometimes it was slow and deep with plenty of touching, kissing, and eye contact. And sometimes it was rough and nasty with every kinky position known to man. But regardless of how it went down, it was more than clear that the two were addicted to each other.

When they finally pried away from the bedroom and each other's arms, Randy had swung by a local fast food drive thru for breakfast. A long shower together followed and afterwards, she and Randy had driven a few miles to a local haunt he favorited on his days off. He had always been an avid gun lover and his brief stint in the Marine Corp had only intensified his interest in firearms. He owned several and taking some from his collection to a nearby shooting range was one of his favorite past times. Putting on the required protective gear he fired his newest addition of a .45 caliber handgun at a series of targets. Memphis watched and later joined him, impressing her boyfriend with her marksman like skill with his .22 pistol. They spent hours at the range and she did not complain, not even once. When they returned back to High Ridge, the two lovers decided to have a low key night at home. They made dinner together and spent the majority of the night watching movies.

For Randy, things were going well. His newfound relationship with Memphis had caused quite the stir with its ensuing drama but the pair had taken it in stride. He was prepared for what was going to happen next, whatever that was, and considering Phil Brooks was due back within a few weeks, all hell was sure to break loose. But for the first time in a long time, Randy was happy. He liked being with Memphis. He enjoyed her company. He felt like he could confide in her. They made each other laugh. He had grown to care about her and the sexual chemistry between them was on fire! It had been an awesome two days…

_"RKO! RKO! RKO!"_

_The chant of the crowd was relentless. Randy's adrenaline kicked in as he made his way to the Gorilla in full wrestling attire. His heart pounded as he walked down that ramp. They loved him and he knew it. He walked towards the ring and climbed in, mounting the ropes like he did every show. Their admiration for him was tangible and it fueled his soul. He threw his tanned arms back, striking that classic Viper pose as the fans went wild. Yes, they loved him. Everybody loved him._

_"Randy…"_

_That voice. That soft voice that was barely above a whisper yet stood out among 20,000 others. He felt his heart stop. No! He wanted to cover his ears, do anything to make it stop._

_"You're not real," he said out loud._

_Bright light illuminated the ring. Randy winced, holding up a large forearm to block what had started to blind him. He fell to one knee and when he looked up again, he could not make out the mass of faces in the sold out arena but he could clearly see the woman that seemed to be floating over him._

_"I came for you."_

_"No!"_

_She looked confused._

_"You said we'd always be together. You said you would come back for me."_

_He looked on in disbelief. Rarely was the man known as the Apex Predator afraid but the fear in his eyes was tangible._

_"Don't do this to me," he pursed his lips together._

_Her smirk seemed to taunt him._

_"You did this to me."_

_"You know I never meant for this to happen…"_

_He wanted to explain. If only she would listen, hear him out, wait for the truth. But she wouldn't. She didn't. She opened her mouth and instantaneously he knew what was coming next. The building went all black as she shrieked so loudly he felt the blood curl in his strong veins. Then it suddenly got bright again and he could start to see the faces of the fans again. Gone were the smiles and looks of adoration. They had been replaced with frightening, blank, almost zombie like stares._

_"Why Randy?" they said over and over again in monotone unison._

_His eyes darted around, seeking help, looking for a way out but of course there was none. There never was. There was no space, no air. The walls were closing in and he found it harder and harder to even breathe._

_"Nooooo!"_

Memphis frowned and stirred in her sleep. She had been sleeping on her right side and her shoulder had developed a cramp. She woke up and stretched, trying to shake it off. The room was dark and quiet except for the light of the full moon that peeked in through a slit in the curtains. She turned over and smiled as she saw Randy lying there. He was so beautiful, even in sleep. She loved the way the covers had exposed his abs and the top portion of one of his exquisitely muscular thighs. She had really fallen for him and lying in his bed in his home still felt surreal. The past 48 hours had been incredible. She was happy. The thoughts of how long it would last or what would happen when Phil came back always threatened to put a damper on their little utopia but she quickly dismissed it from her mind.

More than anything, Memphis wanted to be held. She craved his touch. Even when it wasn't sexual, there was just something so sensual, so amazing about the way his fingertips felt against her skin. Usually they slept in each other's arms but somehow during the course of the night, their bodies had separated. Smiling, she scooted up next to him. As she did, she felt his body jerk violently. His eyes were still closed but his head began to writhe back and forth. He groaned and she swore she heard him mouth the word no. He must have been having a bad dream. Propping herself up on one elbow, she reached out for him.

"Baby, are you alright? It's okay. It's just a nightmare, I'm here."

She touched his chest and in one quick motion, he reached underneath the bed. Memphis never saw what he retrieved, the .22 pistol she had used at the range earlier that day. He pinned her down with his weight, the left hand around her throat, the right hand holding the gun, loaded and cocked at her temple. Memphis whimpered, her entire being frozen with inexplicable fear. Finally, eyes wide, she allowed herself to breathe. For a few seconds he was in a trance like state before he seemed to come around. With his breath ragged, he looked down and realized where he was and who he was with. He was awake now.

Randy looked down at his girlfriend. She looked so afraid and rightfully so. He retreated, putting the gun back in the secret spot he often kept it hidden by the bedside. He removed his hand from her neck and sat up, trying to shake off that feeling he got after every time he had that dream. He sat up, trying to catch his breath before looking back at her. She was still terrified, pulling the covers up to her face with shaking hands.

"Sorry," he managed to grunt as he stumbled out of bed, half dragging one of the thin sheets with him.

He made his way over to the master bathroom where he fumbled to find the light. Randy turned it on along with the shower. He let the hot water run down his bearded face, desperately trying to snap out of it. Sliding down the tiled wall, he crumpled to the shower floor and sat, hugging his knees to his chest as he shook. A few minutes later, he heard the bathroom door open. It was Memphis. She still looked scared but she entered the shower area nonetheless. It was surreal seeing him so vulnerable but she sank to her knees anyway and put her arms around his legs.

"Randy…" her voice quivered.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, not even looking at her.

She slowly turned his face to meet hers. There was a faraway look in his eyes.

"Are you alright?"

"I, I didn't mean to…"

She swallowed hard.

"I know. Baby, I know. Are, are you okay? What happened back there?"

He nodded.

"It was just a stupid dream."

She bit her lip and chuckled inappropriately in spite of the situation.

"Must have been one hell of a dream. What was it about?"

"Nothing," he quickly dismissed it.

"Talk to me, babe. It might not seem like it, but trust me, you'll feel so much better if you talk about it."

"It's nothing."

"Randy…"

"I said it's nothing," he raised his voice, shooting her an icy, warning glare.

"Okay," she retreated. "Okay."

He rubbed his head in his hands.

"There's some whiskey on the mini bar. Can you, um, can you go downstairs and grab me a glass?"

Memphis only nodded and did what she was told. She was sure the last thing he needed after a nightmare so disturbing that it had caused him to pull a loaded weapon on her, was an alcoholic beverage. And judging from the location of the gun, away from the locked safe that housed the rest of the collection, and his unwillingness to discuss it, it was probably a recurring event, though she had never witnessed it happening to him the other times they had spent the night together. She was still trying to calm down herself. His actions had both shocked and scared her. With her hands still trembling uncontrollably, she poured the glass and returned upstairs to the bathroom. Randy was still sitting on the shower floor, water pouring off of him, knees to his chest, blank expression on his face. Memphis adjusted the shower head so the water wasn't directly spraying all over them and sat beside him.

"Here baby," she handed him the glass.

He took and gulped down the liquid, barely wincing as it burned down his throat. He polished off the drink and put the glass outside the shower onto the bathroom floor before resuming his position. He looked at Memphis wordlessly before taking a deep breath. For the first time, she saw real emotion in his eyes and it looked like fear.

"I, um, I'm sorry about the gun…" his voice was uneasy, quivering almost.

Whatever happened in that dream had shaken him to his very core.

"It's okay," she said softly. "Come here, Randy. Baby, come here."

She wrapped her arms around him and for a few minutes he allowed himself to be vulnerable, resting his weary head against her much smaller frame. Those first few moments of being awake after those recurring dreams were always the hardest. The cold sweats, the shakes, the tears. Normally it was something he went though alone. That damned living nightmare that haunted him on a regular basis. No one had witnessed one of those night terrors since Sam. But Sam was long gone and now someone else had taken her place. His girlfriend's tender touch felt good, it felt safe but he doubted that nothing, not even her could make those voices in his head go away for good.


	55. Day III

The night before had been nothing short of bizarre. What had started out as the perfect ending to another great day had ended up becoming a nightmare…literally. Memphis had awakened wanting to be nestled in her boyfriend's arms and instead had found him in the midst of what appeared to be a bad dream. When she went to comfort him, she had been surprised with the ninja like speed it had taken for him to put her in a choke hold and aim a loaded gun at her head. The nightmare had clearly spooked him and though he refused to talk about it, she had a feeling it wasn't the first time he'd had it. He had fled to the shower, asking her to bring him some whiskey, which he had quickly downed. He had sat there on the shower floor for almost an hour, Memphis right beside him. She had sat quietly, finally asking if he wanted to return to bed. He had nodded and they had dried off and wordlessly returned to his bedroom. Randy lay on his back staring up at the ceiling, Memphis on her side facing him. Finally she had crawled towards him and rested her head on his chest. Restless slumber had ensued somehow for both.

When Memphis opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was the fact that the spot next to her was empty. The second thing she noticed was the bedside clock that reported that it was a few minutes until noon. She frowned and then saw a piece of paper on Randy's pillow. There was a note scrawled in his handwriting: _M- Went out for a run. You were sleeping so good I didn't want to wake you but don't worry I'll help you catch up on your cardio when I get back. –R_

She smiled at his joke and sexual innuendo but was slightly disturbed that after what had just happened a few hours before, he could act so normal. Yawning, she shook it off and stretched her arms. She had slept too long and she was hungry. Besides she was looking forward to seeing Randy when he got back. Chances are, he would act like nothing had happened and they would end up having sex. They seemed to be making a lot of progress in their relationship but she wished he would open up to her more.

She slipped on his extra-large Apex Predator tee shirt, sans bra and panties. It was one he had worn to the ring before and it still smelled of his expensive cologne. Wearing his clothes and staying in his home made her feel closer to him. She was starting to feel more comfortable as his girlfriend but in those times she had to remind herself of Randy's past and some of the things he had done, especially to her. She was falling hard but she wanted to be smart about it at the same time and not allow herself to get caught up just in case something bad happened. Letting her hair fall messily upon her shoulders, she walked barefoot down the stairs and into the kitchen. There wasn't an abundance of edibles in the cupboards or fridge but she managed to find suitable ingredients for oatmeal and eggs and veggies for an omelet. As Memphis began to prepare everything, she made sure she made enough for Randy in case he was hungry when he returned home. A smile crept to her face as she heard rumbling at the front door a few minutes later.

He had probably forgotten his house keys. Though the dark cloud of drama loomed over them from the night before, Memphis decided it was best to just put it behind them for the time being. They had another day and a half of r and r and there was no use ruining it with senseless arguing. Feeling devilish, she sauntered over to the door and opened it. Licking her lips, the late breakfast would just have to wait.

"Welcome home, baby. Guess who doesn't have any panties on?" she purred with a seductive grin.

Memphis opened the door wide and was horrified to see that it was not Randy standing on the other side. Even worse, she was more horrified that she did recognize the person at the door. His last name was Orton. It was Cowboy Bob Orton, Randy's father.

"Well, darling, I'd have to say it wouldn't be me. The wife did laundry last night," the older man didn't miss a beat.

Memphis' mouth fell open. She was horrified. There she was, half naked, standing provocatively in front of her boyfriend's father. What a way to make a first impression.

"Oh my God…"

"I take it my son isn't home."

"No. He, he, he's um…he went out for a bit…" she managed to stammer.

"I see."

"Bob, dear, did you remember to put the tomatoes in the bag?" a matronly female voice asked, approaching the door. "I don't see them."

Great. Memphis had never seen her before except in the few family pictures that adorned Randy's home but there was no doubt about it that the woman next to Bob Orton was Elaine, his wife, Randy's mother. The mortification only continued.

"They're in there but Randy's not home, Elaine," Bob cleared his throat.

Elaine's eyes met Memphis' for the first time.

"Oh. Hello. I, uh…take it you're a friend of our son."

Memphis cleared her throat and extended her hand.

"Yes ma'am. Memphis Kramer. Randy and I work together and we're…"

She stopped short of finishing the sentence. What were they? Sure they had established that they were a couple and it was public knowledge but it was one thing declaring that in front of his parents.

"Well, we knew Randy was home from the road and I went to the Farmer's Market yesterday and picked up some fresh fruit and veggies for him."

Elaine spoke with a skeptical look in her eye and an uncomfortable tone in her voice. Who could blame her with the strange young woman in her oldest son's home wearing an oversized tee shirt and not much more.

"Mr. and Mrs. Orton, um, please come in. Randy should be back any minute now. Uh, have a seat, make yourself comfortable and I'll be right back."

Memphis forced a meek smile and scurried upstairs to the bedroom. She closed her eyes and collapsed on the bed, groaning out loud. She hadn't even thought about meeting Randy's family but that was certainly not the way she had envisioned the first encounter. Cursing herself and fighting back tears, she pulled on a tank top, a fitted pair of yoga pants and a matching hoodie. Pulling her hair back, she summoned her courage to go back downstairs and somehow face Randy's folks, silently praying they were already gone. But her prayers went unanswered as she heard voices coming from the kitchen. Bob and Elaine were still there and they had been joined by someone else.

"Memphis, hey," Randy looked up with a smile.

"Hi," she walked slowly into the kitchen where everyone had gathered.

"What are you up to?"

"Nothing much."

"I turned the stove off, didn't want you to burn your omelet."

"Thanks."

Randy reached into the bag his mother had brought and pulled out a fresh red apple and proceeded to take a large bite.

"So you met my parents, huh?"

She blushed deeply.

"Yeah. Um, we met…"

"It's always a pleasure to meet one of your…friends," Elaine phrased her words carefully, even as a hint of disdain dripped from her voice.

"Memphis is my girlfriend," Randy added nonchalantly as he kept munching on his snack.

"Oh?" Elaine questioned. "When did this happen? It's just that a few weeks ago at dinner you didn't mention…"

Randy shrugged.

"We work together. It's kind of new. Long story. Things got off to a rocky start but we became friends and we decided to see where things go."

Bob leaned back in his chair.

"I've seen you referee, Memphis. That's a pretty tough job out there. It's a man's world. How you holding up?"

"I know it's different," Memphis began. "People expect me to wrestle or valet but I have always loved pro wrestling and I always wanted to be a part of it somehow. I never envisioned myself as being anything but a referee. So after law school, I decided to pursue it and an Indy promotion gave me a chance and it just took off from there. It wasn't easy. The money situation was pretty bad. People didn't always give me respect or take me seriously. There were times when I was legitimately hurt inside the ring. Promoters didn't always want to book me but I stuck with what I loved and after a long time and a lot of hard work, it finally paid off."

Bob nodded as he studied the young woman.

"Anything worth having in life is worth working and waiting for…that's what my Old Man used to say. Good for you for sticking to your guns. You do a good job."

Memphis smiled a genuine smile.

"Really? Wow…um, thank you, sir. That, that means a lot coming from someone like you. You're a legend in the business."

"Well, I appreciate the kind words and respect, young lady. So you say you grew up a fan?"

"Since I was a little girl."

"Who were your favorites?"

"Gosh, there were so many. Hulk Hogan, Macho Man Randy Savage, Junkyard Dog, Ravishing Rick Rude, Brutus the Barber Beefcake, Ultimate Warrior, Koko B. Ware…the list goes on and on."

"All fine workers, even finer men. Boy, hearing those names brings back lots of memories. I have all kinds of stories from the road and the locker room."

"I'm sure."

"Back in those days we used to live by the airport. Whenever the shows came to St. Louis, I'd invite the roster over and Elaine would whip up a home cooked meal and we'd just shoot the shit. Randy ever tell you those stories?"

"No, um, not really…"

"I can't believe you, son. You never told Memphis about meeting Andre the Giant for the first time?"

Randy shrugged casually, still devouring his apple.

"I can't wait to hear those stories sometime. Randy will have to tell me."

"Nonsense. He can't tell a story like the Old Man can. I'll tell you what, if you two are in town tonight, you should come over to the house later on for dinner. I'll show you some pictures and tell you some of my favorite tales about the good old days. It'll be a grand time. Elaine is making meat loaf tonight. You do like meat loaf, don't you, darlin'?" he turned to Memphis.

Memphis shot Randy a nervous smile before looking at his father.

"I, I love meat loaf. It sounds like a plan, Mr. Orton."

Though still somewhat skeptical, even Elaine's expression had softened somewhat. Maybe this wasn't just another one of her oldest son's random tramps after all.

"We'll see you then. And cut the formalities. You can call me Bob. Now Randy, son, you know dinner always starts at six on the dot. Don't be late."

"Yes sir."

He kissed and hugged his parents good bye and within a few minutes, they were gone and Memphis could breathe again.

"Oh my God…"

"What? They seem to like you."

"Your dad maybe but not your mom. And not that I could blame her. I was prancing around half naked in her son's house. She probably thinks I'm a slut."

"Probably," Randy agreed as he walked over to her and held her.

"Randy! God! You're not exactly helping here…"

He chuckled.

"She's a protective mom. Any chick Nate and me bring home is a slut in her eyes until she proves herself otherwise."

"That's real comforting," she rolled her eyes before giving him a quick kiss on the mouth.

"Don't sweat it. I've told them about dropping by unannounced and stuff. Anyway, we'll hang out with the fam for a few hours tonight, my mom is a great cook, we'll eat awesome food, listen to my dad's stories, look at embarrassing photos of me as a kid and then we'll come back here. Just be yourself and my family will love you. It's not a big deal."

Memphis exhaled, trying to relax a bit.

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"But what about….you know, I'm not exactly the all American blonde haired, blue eyed pageant queen. Do you think that bothers them?"

"No and if it does, that's their problem. I'm a grown man, Memphis, I make my own decisions. Besides, I have never been attracted to that type. I've always liked brunettes. Dark hair, nice tits, exotic looking…"

He began to nuzzle her neck and she moaned.

"Thank God I wasn't born a blonde then," she half joked, pulling him closer to her body.

Randy picked her up and placed her on the counter top, spreading her legs as he stood between them.

"Your ass looks sexy in yoga pants."

Memphis giggled.

"Is that your subtle way of telling me you're going to take me upstairs and ravage me?"

"Nope," he shook his head, to her surprise. "I'm gonna do it right here."

Her laughter was silenced by his kisses. It had started out an unusual day. Spending time with her new boyfriend in Missouri, Memphis had never dreamed it would mean meeting the parents so soon. But apparently it did. Besides the incident with Randy's nightmare the evening before, their time off together had been filled with highs. Knowing a relationship with him meant unpredictability, four days away from the pressures of work and drama from the love she had left behind had turned out to be bliss. Things were looking up for the new couple and Memphis dared to dream that the feeling would last.


	56. Day IV

It was the fourth and final day of what had turned out to be both a relaxing and glorious vacation. In addition to the mini break for the Christmas holidays, that many days off at one time was a true rarity for the WWE Superstars. Randy had shocked Memphis when he had invited her to come back to Missouri with him. The first day had been the surprise romantic venture to Lake Saint Louis. There they had talked and once again Randy had really opened up to her, a fact that Memphis loved and cherished. Times like that brought them closer together and she knew she was one of the select few to ever see him so vulnerable.

Day two had been lazy and fun, nothing spectacular except lounging around the house and just doing what normal couples did on their day off. For Memphis, that was more than enough. Their time together had been as close to perfection as one could imagine but the utopia had been damaged by the end of the second night. Randy had been in the midst of a violent night terror, one so frightening that it had ended with his startled, hypervigilent response shoving a gun in her face. He had refused to speak about what had scared him so but by the next day, all had been forgotten. Memphis had found something else to worry about in the form of unexpectedly running into Randy's parents while he was out and she was half naked.

It wasn't the ideal way to meet the family and she had worried that the first impression would be a lasting one for all the wrong reasons. She and Randy were "together" but still it was awkward whenever the subject came up of taking the next step in their relationship. Randy had seemed unphased by the little impromptu meeting and within minutes, his father, Cowboy Bob Orton, had warmed up to his son's new lady friend as they chatted about professional wrestling, one of the great loves of the older gentleman's life. His wife Elaine hadn't been so welcoming and Memphis had been unsure that accepting an invitation to a family dinner was the wisest decision. But Randy had insisted they go, assuring her everything would be fine. A marathon sex session followed and as afternoon turned into evening, Memphis, after a shot of straight gin, felt relaxed enough to attend.

It had been a nice time. The Orton home was modest but nice, nestled cozily into a middle class neighborhood cul de sac. They had arrived about an hour early and Memphis had once again been both enthralled and entertained by Bob's tales of life on the road and inside the ring. She had also gotten to meet Randy's younger siblings, sister, Becky and brother, Nathan. They had been nice as well and did their best to make the visitor feel welcomed. Memphis had sat back and just enjoyed the comfortable chit chatter and joking banter among family members. When they were together, they were a tight little union and it was good for Memphis to see him at home with the group of people who had been there with him from the beginning, before the money, the bright lights, and the millions of people screaming, "RKO!"

With Randy lovingly rubbing her knee underneath the dining room table, Memphis felt more relaxed than ever. She loved his family and had managed to win them over as well. After dessert, Elaine Orton had quietly slipped back into the kitchen to do the dishes and clean up. Memphis had cautiously approached and nervously asked if she could help. The older woman had obliged and they had made small talk. It was awkward for both but Memphis was determined to make an effort. Though she didn't leave the home that evening with a new BFF, she had let her boyfriend's mother attempt to get to know the real her. At least it was a start and Elaine no longer had to be suspicious of some slut or money grubber trying to cozy up to her boy.

That night had turned out to be the best one so far. That night Memphis had run a hot bath and she and Randy had sat inside the tub for hours just talking until the water cooled to an unbearably uncomfortable temperature. She loved the feel of him sitting in between her legs, the sleek gams wrapped around his massively toned front. She had taken a wet wash rag and squeezed the water droplets onto his chest, kissing his neck as she rubbed circles on his core. They had dried off and climbed into bed naked where they cuddled then slept until the next day sans lovemaking. The sex was out of this world but Memphis didn't always want it to be about that. Just being held by Randy, really getting to know him as a person was what truly mattered.

The last day was busy making preparations for the upcoming road trip. Before they all knew it, Wrestlemania, the premiere event in sports entertainment would be just around the corner. Undoubtedly, Randy would have a big match on the card and Memphis, the most talked about referee in all of sports, would surely have a spot somewhere at the event. Both were looking forward to it. In the meantime, Memphis was content to play that domestic role, helping Randy pack, washing and ironing his clothes and such. Most of his luggage was in the closet in one of the spare bedrooms. Memphis dragged the largest bag back to the master bedroom where they were getting things together. As she plopped down on the floor, she noticed, she had brought the wrong bag. It was heavy and peeking out of the top was a pair of fatigues.

Memphis smiled. She pulled out the carefully folded shirt and ran her slender fingers over the name tag Orton. It was Randy's Marine Corp uniform. It was no secret that he had served in the Marines and it definitely was no secret how things had ended. He hadn't talked about it much but the more she got to know him, the real him, the more she suspected that the entire situation bothered him much more than he let on. He didn't like to fail at anything and so many had looked at the entire period of his life with harsh judgment. Memphis sighed. Randy didn't always have the answers. Beneath the Viper, the Apex Predator persona, and 6 foot 5 inches, 235 pounds of tattooed muscle was simply a man, sometimes defenseless, sometimes vulnerable.

Staring at the box, curiosity got the best of her. There were all kinds of goodies inside. Different uniforms and medals. There was also a smaller box filled with papers and a shoe box of random photographs from Randy's brief stint in the military. He was younger and he looked different. More innocent, if that was possible, she thought as she ran her fingers over his military picture ID card.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The deep voice standing near the doorway scared Memphis. She let out a little shriek as she floated back to reality, some of the contents of the box dropping from her fingers. She turned and saw a shirtless Randy, arms folded. A small smile crept to her lips as she placed her right hand over her heart and tried to regain a normal breathing pattern.

"Wow, babe. Geez, you scared the shit out of me. I'm sorry I didn't see you standing there."

Randy was not smiling.

"Memphis, what is all this? What are you doing? What the hell is going on? Where did you get that bag from?"

"Nothing. I was getting our things together for the road trip and I guess I grabbed the wrong bag. I was gonna put it back and then I saw what was in it and I couldn't help it. This…it's kind of cool. All your military stuff. I was just looking around, no big deal. I mean, I've never really heard you talk about that part of your life before. This stuff, the uniforms and the ribbons and all, it's kind of cool."

He stalked over and began shoving the belongings back into the bag.

"This is none of your goddamned business, Memphis."

She was taken aback at his tone, accompanied with a tense and hostile demeanor.

"Randy?"

Surely he had to be joking. His gaze refused to meet hers and when she grabbed his bare arm, a pair of icy blue eyes finally looked at her. It was enough to make her gasp. She hadn't seen one of those looks from him in months, not since the days that he had taken immense pleasure in humiliating her and making life backstage a living hell.

"I can't believe you," he huffed, roughly pulling away.

"Baby, what is the matter? I…"

"That's bullshit. You shouldn't be rifling through my things."

"What are you talking about? I, I wasn't rifling through your things. It was an accident."

"An accident?" he questioned, his steely glare almost boring a hole right through her.

"Yeah. I…"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Baby…"

When the bag was packed, he turned on his heels to leave the bedroom. Memphis stood and followed him reaching up for his arm and again he pushed away.

"Get your hands off me."

"Are you being for real right now?"

"I'm fucking serious. Don't touch me, Memphis."

"Randy, why are you acting like this? God, I didn't mean anything by it. I swear I didn't mean to grab the wrong bag. And when I saw that it was the wrong thing I had every intention to put it back but I saw your Marine stuff and I guess I got curious. I wasn't trying to be disrespectful. I mean, it is a part of your life and I guess I was just interested."

The more she explained, the angrier he got. Storming off, he slung the large bag over his broad shoulder and walked downstairs. When he made it to the door that led to the garage, he opened it and tossed it roughly into the garage before slamming the door behind him in a huff.

"Look, I don't know what you think you're doing but this isn't your house."

"What? I, I can't believe you just said that to me. I can't believe you're being so mean. I know this isn't my house."

"Memphis, you are a guest here. If you're gonna be a nosy bitch, if I can't trust you…"

Tears pooled in her dark eyes.

"Then what?" she asked quietly.

Randy didn't miss a beat.

"Then don't come back. And whatever this is we're doing, maybe it's not working," he mouthed coldly.

She gasped at his comment, his anger that had turned to aloofness in 0.2 seconds.

"Whatever this is we're doing? Randy, how…how could you say that? Why are you overreacting? I, I'm sorry."

"Whatever."

"Can we, I don't know, can we talk about this?"

She was left stunned and alone. It really was innocent. She had meant nothing by it but her innocent curiosity had led to a dreadful misunderstanding that has spiraled dangerously out of control. Wrapping her arms around herself, Memphis struggled to gather her thoughts. Maybe he was embarrassed about how the whole military career had ended but he didn't have to be ashamed of anything in front of her and regardless, that gave him no right to treat her that way. One thing for sure was that Randy Orton was unpredictable. On one hand he could be super loving, attentive, calm and affectionate and in a flash, he could become enraged, hurtful, and distant. It wasn't just what he said, it was how he said it. The look in his eyes, the refusal to even discuss it further. Finally a single tear fell down her face. It had been a glorious vacation but that last night was a powerful reminder how every time they seemed to take one step forward, the always ended up ten steps back.


	57. Making Up Is Hard To Do

It was like the whole world had gone mad. For Memphis Kramer, it had. The last month and a half had been surreal in itself. In fact, her entire stint in the WWE had been one gigantic whirlwind of chaos. For sure, there was never a dull moment. And one important characteristic every WWE employee had to have all the way from Corporate to on air talent to crew, was flexibility. It was a must. And at the end of a rare four consecutive days off, Memphis had received the message that her talents were needed on the Smackdown side. It was a change of plans that involved immediate amendment to travel. The announcement had come in the midst of a terrible misunderstanding. In a matter of seconds, her boyfriend, Randy Orton had walked in on something innocent and before she could explain, he had blown up. It had taken her off guard, horrifying shades of the "old" Randy. She had been unable to get a word in edgewise. An explanation is the last thing he had wanted to hear. He had gone off on her, then retreated, coolly aloof and callous. She had received the call from WWE about the amended schedule soon after. After an hour or so of going over rearrangements, she had found herself cold and lonely falling in and out of a restless slumber on Randy's couch. She had managed to keep her dignity and keep from completely falling apart but her feelings were hurt. She did not understand Randy's anger or subsequent reaction and the worst part was, he had just shut her out. All communication was out the door and hours later, so was she as she found herself filling in last minute at a house show in Roanoke, Virginia.

She had officiated three matches as the company was in the middle of a transition, bringing in several new hires and some referees from their developmental territory. She was to rejoin the RAW brand in Raleigh, North Carolina and the plan was to drive there right after the show. Luckily, she and Nattie were on the same schedule so the two friends had planned to share a rental. Putting every possible distraction out of her mind, Memphis had gone out in front of the live audience and worked her magic. She was really over with the fans. They did not just like her, they actually respected her. It felt good. People were paying their hard earned money to come out and see the shows. Sometimes for the Superstars it felt like just another redundant night at the office but one had to always remember that each city, it was a new crowd with new members of the WWE Universe. It really wasn't their problem if the performers were tired or sick or annoyed or going through some sort of personal drama. They paid for a show and that's what they wanted to see. So that is exactly what Memphis gave them. She put the uncertainty and turmoil ongoing with Randy aside, gave a big smile and did what she got paid to do. It was two and a half hours, and of course a few scattered minutes of random fan encounters from those who had been lucky enough to have a chance meeting with their favorite wrestling personality. Afterwards, she had showered quickly and she and Nattie were on the road for the late night drive. After a run through a local fast food drive thru, Memphis had quietly watched the world go by in darkness as Nattie had happily chatted away.

"What's the matter, Memphis?"

"What?"

It took Memphis a few confused seconds to even realize her girlfriend had been talking to her.

"You look…I don't know, distracted, like something is going on. You haven't been yourself all day, in fact. I don't want to pry, especially if you don't feel like talking about it. But if you do, know that I am here for you. I feel bad just gabbing away going on and on while you look so miserable."

Memphis sighed.

"I was listening…sort of. You were talking about TJ."

TJ Wilson was better known to the wrestling fans as Tyson Kidd. He was a phenomenal performer, the last graduate from the infamous Hart Dungeon, run by Nattie's maternal grandfather, Stu. She and TJ had known each other since they were kids and had been dating exclusively for the past 11 years.

"Yeah…"

"He's a good guy."

Nattie smiled softly to herself.

"He's a great guy. I'm very lucky."

"11 years…that is amazing. How do you guys make it work?"

"It is work. You have to put forth effort in relationships just like anything else. But at the same time, we have a lot of fun. There is friendship and common interests and goals, there is respect and of course great sex," she giggled. "But um…believe it or not, even though working for the WWE was both our dream, you know, it was always the end goal, I have to admit this has really tested our relationship."

"How so?"

"It's stressful. I know TJ is frustrated, hell, I am frustrated for him. It's like the second he gets a push…the next thing you know, it is back to jobbing on the mid card at a house show. He is so much better than that and I'm not just saying it because I am his girlfriend. And there is that whole history between my family and the McMahon's, I don't know. It gets tough sometimes but through it all, he is my best friend in the world. I love and respect that man more than you can imagine. We've been a part of each other's lives since we were children and we started dating way before the wrestling thing came into effect. And we are determined to make it, no matter what, you know? Whatever happens at work will not define who we are as a couple."

Memphis nodded. Nattie and TJ were in it for the long haul and that was plain as day for anyone to see. They were so connected, so in sync.

"I hate to admit this, but I am a little jealous," Memphis kept staring absently out the passenger side window.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know…"

"What did Randy do now?" Nattie knowingly glanced over.

She had grown close to Nattie and Melina but still felt uncomfortable divulging every single detail of her private life. And though Nattie would never be the type to say, "I told you so", Memphis still could not help but to feel a little self-conscious and very paranoid. Punk was a good guy and they had been solid. She had his heart and anyone around could bet the house that he would never hurt her. His loyalty was unmatched…when he was down for you, he was down for you. Randy Orton was much more of a wild card. Everyone had already assumed the truth, that she had dumped Phil for Randy and the murmurs questioned her sanity. It would only be a matter of time before Randy hurt her. Memphis wanted nothing more than to prove everyone wrong.

"We had a fight. It, was um, pretty stupid. He got upset…it was totally blown out of proportion but it will be okay."

She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. The truth was, she had driven herself to the airport the night before. When he had retreated to his room and slammed the door, he had not emerged and had not bothered to call her in the 24 hours since.

"Okay. I'm sure you two will work it out."

"It's fine, Nat. Look, I'm, really tired…"

"Randy gets like that sometimes. It's weird. I don't know what happened between you two and it is really none of my business but yeah, he self-sabotages sometimes. But he has changed a lot recently for the better and I know he cares about you."

"I know," Memphis rested her head against the window.

Nattie took her cue and turned up the volume of the radio a bit. A few hours later, they made it to their destination. Memphis hauled her bags out of the trunk and checked in before bidding good night to her friend. She made her way to the room and unpacked enough to find a sleep shirt and a clean pair of underwear. She took a long, hot shower and washed her hair. After toweling off and changing for bed, she charged her phone and gave it one last longing look. So many times she had wanted to call him but she had her pride. She hadn't done anything wrong and Randy had severely overreacted. If they were ever going to talk about it, he would have to make the first move. Biting her lip, she turned off all the lights and trudged to bed as a knock at the door startled her. She walked cautiously over to it and stood on the tips of her toes to get a look out of the peephole. To her utter shock, it was Randy. He knocked again after a few seconds, and she slowly opened the door.

"Hey," he said.

Memphis swallowed hard.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"You gonna let me in?"

"You gonna answer my question?"

He walked inside and closed the door behind him. She did not protest.

"I wanted to see you," he finally said, his face and eyes void of any emotion, particularly remorse.

"Why haven't you called?"

"I needed to calm down."

Memphis shook her head and walked away.

"You're full of shit."

"Memphis…"

"Look, things are going to happen and people are not always going to agree. I get that. I'm okay with that. What I am not okay with is how you handle problems and emotions. You completely flipped out for no reason at all, went off on me, locked yourself in your room and refused to communicate all day. That's not cool, Randy. Not with me. In fact, that is pretty damned unacceptable."

He did not argue.

"I'm an asshole sometimes," he shrugged.

Her dark eyes narrowed.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"I don't like people going through my stuff."

"I wasn't going through your stuff on purpose. If you had let me explain…"

"I know. Look, I jumped the gun, flew off the handle and it was wrong. I guess I should have dealt with the situation, dealt with you better. It's just weird. I haven't had a chick in my house like that in a while."

It sounded like a lame excuse but in Randy world, it was his genuine way of explaining things.

"Whatever we're doing, if we are going to keep doing it, you have to trust me."

"I do. What, do you think I just let anybody in my personal space like that?"

Memphis closed her eyes.

"You said some pretty mean things to me. You called me a bitch, a nosy bitch. You made me feel like some unwanted stranger in your house after we had such an amazing few days together. Look, you are who you are. That's fine. I will and would never ask you to stop being you but when we first met…you were unbearable. You were an asshole. I didn't put up with it then and I won't put up with it now."

"Fair enough. You shouldn't have to."

She was angry. More than anything, she wanted to slap him and tell him to get the hell out of her room. If he was going to act like a jerk and then waltz into the hotel after 24 hours of ignoring her after an unnecessary blowup, he could go kick rocks barefoot. She wasn't going to be his doormat and he had to know that. But Randy Orton was like a drug. And when he was in front of her, staring into her eyes like that, he was truly a Viper and she was the prey. Like it or not, he had a hold on her.

"You owe me an apology," the words tumbled out in an anger and hurt filled whisper.

"I'm sorry," he looked her right in the eye.

Memphis turned her back.

"Randy…"

She hoped he would just leave but no such luck as she felt his strong hands on both her shoulders.

"I said I'm sorry," he repeated.

Her eyes closed as hot tears threatened to pool. His breath, minty from the gum in his mouth, was warm against the back of her neck. She felt thick fingers run down both sides of the material of the nightshirt until there was contact with her bare thighs. Expertly, he kneaded the sensitive flesh. Willing everything she had, Memphis pulled away, turning around looking at him.

"You hurt me," she stated simply, looking right at him.

"I know."

"Don't do it again."

He leaned in for a kiss that she blocked.

"Memphis…"

"I mean it, Randy."

He nodded, licking his bottom lips before cupping her small face in his hands. The old saying went that breaking up is hard to do. No one had ever said anything about making up.


	58. The Storm After A Calm Before The Storm

Memphis cranked up the volume on her iPod a few more notches as she picked up the pace. She had about two hours before she needed to be at the arena for work and she had opted for a jog. Many of the venues were conveniently located in "downtown" areas or at least populated ones with plenty of sidewalks. She worked out pretty hard at the gym but runs were her favorite source of cardio. It felt good to get lost and take a jog with the fresh outside air beating against her face, music turned up, in some unfamiliar city. Once again, life had managed to calm down a little bit. Her emotions were on edge and had been for good reason. Even as great as things had been with Randy, there always loomed that little shadow of doubt in the back in her mind. Could Randy be trusted? Did they even have a legitimate chance?

From that first leap of faith when she had given her heart to him, he had been one pleasant and gentle surprise after another. It was nice to see the softer, sweeter side of Randy Orton. She wanted to love him but she knew they would never make it that far if she could not trust him. He had a knack and reputation for being a bit of a loose cannon and sure enough, the volcano had erupted at the most unexpected of times. His cavalier attitude and cold shoulder that followed had just added salt to an already oozing, open wound. It had taken a little over 24 hours for them to make up. Staying true to her strong nature, she had stood firmly on her ground and not caved in or begged him. He had waltzed back in her life and before accepting his apology and making amends, she had been sure to lay down some ground and communication were key.

Memphis had let him make love to her. That night Randy had been even more passionate than usual but it was a different kind of passion. It had nothing to do with his insatiable lust and physical want for her. It was more about a need to silently prove how much she meant to him and how sorry he was that he had hurt her. He held her closer than he ever had before. There was kissing the whole time and when he wasn't kissing her, he was looking intensely in her eyes. It was tender and slow and when a few silent tears fell down her cheeks, her boyfriend was right there to kiss them away.

They had fallen asleep wrapped in each other's arms. The next morning they had woken up and uncharacteristically, Randy had again apologized and promised to be more considerate of her feelings and less likely to launch into a tantrum and ignore her. That in itself had made her feel better. After a quick shower together, Randy had gone off to do media for the day. They had remained in contact via text messages and he had even extended an invite for her to join him to work out at the local gym. Memphis had politely declined and promised to catch up with him later. She didn't feel like doing any weight training and a street jog seemed like it would be more mind clearing than a treadmill or elliptical machine inside a crowded gym. And despite feeling calmer and more centered, a little extra mind clearing certainly never hurt anyone.

It had been a good day so far and Memphis had only positive thoughts that it would continue. Her run had gone well. She had made a little over three and a half miles without being noticed. Flashing her badge and a big smile to security, they let her in the rear entrance of the arena where the talent arrived and exited. She scoped out the scene and layout of a building she had never been in before and then grabbed some food in the Catering section. She had a salad and a water and then headed back to Randy's empty bus where her officiating gear had remained stored. Deciding to take a single carry on, she also slung a gym bag over her left shoulder and headed back in the building. Frowning, she noticed that it was a different entrance and all of a sudden, she was turned around. Finding what she thought was the women's dressing area, she opened the door but found the large room empty…almost.

He had been away for a few months and sitting around on a couch at home was driving him crazy. Though the debilitated piece of bone in his hip had desperately needed the rehab for which he had been sidelined for, plain and simple, he was a professional wrestler, an elite member of sports entertainment's most infamous traveling athletic circus. He was a bit of a loner, an outsider in the WWE but then again, he had lived his entire life as a man who moved to the beat of his own drum. He was anxious to get back to his livelihood and he was more focused than ever, despite the heaviness that weighed inside his heart. He would never allow anyone to see that though. With that oh so familiar fire in the eyes and ice water in the veins, CM Punk was back and ready for anything…almost.

"Sorry, wrong locker room. I didn't know anyone was in here," she stopped mid-sentence.

Her eyes grew wide and her heart caught in her throat. She got real butterflies in her stomach and not the good ones but the kind that made you want to throw up in fear, dread, and just plain old anxiety. It was the most unexpected of sights, something she could not have predicted and had not been prepared for. It was him. It was Punk. Phil.

He took one look at her and for one of the first times in his life, Phil Brooks was speechless. She looked smaller than he remembered. Standing in front of him was the woman he had given his heart to…the woman who had broken it. Since their breakup, he had been dealing with an onset of varied emotions. He was angry. He was confused. He was hurt, though it pained him as much to admit it. No one, not even he could foretell how their very first interaction would go when he rejoined the roster on the road. For a hair of a millisecond, his heart softened but then he quickly remembered her disloyalty, her filthy lies, her blatant betrayal. That was all it took. His blood pressure rose but on the outside he remained calm.

"Now you do."

Her heart skipped a beat. She didn't know what she had expected. Civility was obviously not in the cards.

"Phil…"

"Women's locker room is around the corner," he coolly chewed his gum, his eyes looking directly into hers.

He was looking right at her and right through her. Those strong arms had once cradled and protected her so lovingly. They had been a team, the best of friends…the closest of lovers. Now they were two strangers, just someone each used to know. It killed her.

"Um, hi…welcome, welcome back. It's really good to see you."

Was she being serious? Phil raised an eyebrow. He knew that she was. And sincere. A smirk crossed his lips.

"You've got balls the size of grapefruits," he sneered.

Her heart broke.

"I know you're angry…still upset with me. I get it. I expect it. I deserve it even. I have said it before and I will say it again. I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

"What?"

He shrugged.

"No need to be sorry. Life is about choices, Memphis, and you made yours. You made your bed, so to speak, with Orton's grimy ass still in it. If life isn't as grand and peachy as you thought it would be, you only have yourself to thank."

It was a defense mechanism. That was just his way. He had a hard time letting people get close and when they did and deceived him, he had the ability to cut one off cold turkey without a second thought or glance backwards.

"Please don't do this," she shook her head, her voice practically begging. "I messed up and I am sorry and I am willing to do anything to make it right. I know you may never trust me again or even want to be my friend and I respect how you feel but this…God. We can't have this between us."

He folded his arms.

"And what is that?"

"The animosity, this wall. We have to work together in this company and travel together and see each other four to five times a week. I don't want to spend that time arguing with you…or running away from you."

Phil rolled his eyes.

"What do you want me to do, shed a tear? Nice speech but it's not gonna happen. I am not worried about you. You don't even exist to me anymore and what doesn't exist cannot hurt or affect me. You fucked up. You lied. You cheated. You sold out. You were a whore. You were a bitch. You did all those things, not me. This isn't on me and if you feel bad or sad or nervous, well, kiddo, that one's on you, too. And you are smoking something from your boyfriend's stash if you think I am going to sit here and comfort and conjole you or do anything to make you feel better about the bullshit you are responsible for. This is life, Memphis. So why don't you go put your big girl panties on and grow up and grow a pair?"

Tears filled her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

"Please don't hate me," she whispered.

He chuckled coldly.

"You're not worth the time or effort. You never were. Now why don't you do us both a favor and run along? I'm sure it's time for Randy to get his dick sucked. Better hurry before one of the ring rats beats you to the punch."

His verbal jabs hit like iron fists. Scraping together what was left of her dignity, she gathered her belongings and left. She suddenly felt ill. It was her normal routine to be prepared and dressed early for the shows but at the moment, before she fainted, Memphis hurriedly made her way back to Randy's bus. She banged on the door and Randy's primary driver, Frank, let her in. She ignored his questions asking if she was okay. She went to the back main bedroom and collapsed on the bed crying, not even noticing that Randy, fresh from his workout, was exiting the bus' bathroom shower.

"Memphis?" he looked at her, blue eyes narrowing.

She was obviously upset.

"Ran, I, I didn't know you were here…"

"What's wrong with you?"

She shook her head. She was tempted to lie and tell him nothing, that everything was okay. But when she opened her mouth, only a small sob came out.

"Oh Randy…"

He secured the white towel around his chiseled waist, and still damp, walked over to the bed and sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her.

"Babe…"

"I'm sorry," she wiped her eyes.

"What happened? Why are you crying?"

"Phil is back," she could barely look at him.

"What did he say to you?" Randy hissed.

"I, um…I ran into him accidentally. He…God…I knew this was gonna be bad. I, I just wanted to talk to him, you know? I apologized. I feel like I should never stop apologizing and the last thing I want is bad blood, this hateful rift between any of us. And he, you know him," she sniffled. "He's not trying to hear it. He hates my guts and has absolutely no problem whatsoever letting me know that."

"Tell me exactly what he said."

"He took some pretty low blows but um, it's not important."

Randy stood up.

"He is a pathetic fucking douche bag. He's just mad because you don't want him. That freak can't handle rejection."

"It's alright…"

"The hell it is. If he wants to walk around with a chip on his shoulder, whatever, but I will be damned if he thinks he is gonna go around disrespecting my girl. He has another thing coming. And when I find his ass, I am gonna let him know about it."

"No!"

"Fuck that, Memphis. And fuck him. I don't who the hell he thinks he is."

"I am begging you. Please stop. Just calm down. I know you are mad. He is mad and this thing is going to blow up if we don't just walk away. Somehow it will blow over, it has to, but in the meantime, don't go starting anything with him and you have to give me your word that if he gets in your face, you will be the bigger man."

Randy smirked.

"You want me to lie to you?"

"Ran…"

"I'm serious. Do you?"

She sighed.

"No. Of course not," Memphis spoke softly.

"Then don't ask me to make promises I can't keep. That motherfucker has one time to look at you or me cross eyed and he's done. Plain and simple."

She knew he meant business. And she knew what would happen if a confrontation ensued. Punk would not back down, not by any means. A sickening feeling churned deep inside her belly. She had the sinking feeling things were about to get ugly.


	59. A Balance Of Power

As the road to Wrestlemania had officially kicked off, the talent's already busy and hectic schedule had only grown more chaotic. When they found a full 36 hours off, Randy and Memphis had decided to venture back to Missouri. When they arrived that night, they had gone straight into St. Louis to see an MMA match that Randy's younger brother, Nate, had been competing in. Afterwards, the entire Orton family had gone out to celebrate Nate's victory and Randy's new girlfriend had been invited as well. She was beginning to feel more comfortable around his family. They all seemed to genuinely like her and accept her…after all, the women he usually dated weren't exactly long term material…not since Sam. Even Elaine was starting to warm up to her but that would be a painfully slow process.

They arrived back at the house late and just stayed up all night talking. Memphis cherished those precious moments the most. It was the Randy Orton that made her heart melt, the man who could relax and let go of the tough guy exterior. When he shed that and was able to laugh and just be and actually sit by the fire with his girl and sip hot cocoa, that time was simply magic for them. They had fallen asleep just like that, under the blanket on the living room floor in front of the fire. Randy had errands to run that morning but the two basically had pledged to spend the day just hanging out and doing a lot of nothing.

Memphis had taken a shower first and then made a light breakfast for a still sleeping Randy. They had eaten together and then he had gone off to shower alone. Realizing she had left something in her car, Memphis had trudged out to retrieve it. She had been basically living with Randy when it came down to it. Ever since she had broken up with Phil and left Chicago for good. She had ended up at Randy's place and had traveled there on every off day thereafter. When they were on the road, they rode on his tour bus together and shared hotel rooms together. She did not know how long it was to last but when they were getting along, it was pure bliss.

The weather was still chilly and her thin yoga pants and tee shirt did little to protect her. As she turned to walk back up the drive, she was met by the mailman. He was friendly and smiled and handed her a stack of envelopes. Memphis nodded and wished him a good day and hurried back inside where Randy had changed into gym shorts that hung low from his perfectly carved hips. She loved his "fresh out of the shower" look.

"I got the mail," she smiled at him.

"Cool."

"Um, if you don't mind, I had the post office in Illinois forward all my stuff here. I really had nowhere else to send it…" she said with a hint of embarrassment.

Randy just shrugged it off.

"That's cool. Anything good?"

Memphis quickly flipped through the mail, handing him the bulk of it, as a few pieces were for her. They sorted through what they received and Memphis opened up a letter she had received regarding her taxes, on the spot. As she went to put it up, she realized she had accidentally opened another letter along with it. It happened to be a bill and it wasn't hers. It was addressed to Randy and the statement was from a nursing home located in White River Junction, Vermont.

"Here," she handed it to him rather quickly. "I accidentally ripped it open when I was opening something up for myself. I, I'm really sorry. It was an accident, babe."

She was on edge, almost fearful and he knew it had to do with what had transpired between them weeks before when he had gone off on her for supposedly snooping through his stuff.

"It's cool," he gave her a real smile. "I know. Look, it's hard for me to say something like this but I trust you."

Memphis returned his smile and they shared a sweet kiss.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Randy took the envelope and glanced at it nervously several times before putting it up.

"So," he began. "I got a few things to take care of today but other than that, I am all yours."

She loved that sexy trademark grin of his. It turned her on like nothing else.

"Is that so?" she licked her lips.

"What do you want to do?"

"I want to fuck you," she said matter of factly, voice serious but dark eyes teasing.

Randy felt an instant tightening in his loins. There was something just so incredibly hot about his girl. He loved the casual look of the baggy tee shirt and how the yoga pants made her incredible ass look…well, even more incredible. She had flat out told him what she wanted and who was he to disappoint? Randy sauntered over to where she was standing. He pulled her much smaller frame towards him and enveloped her pretty little mouth with a kiss. The taste of her drove him wild, just like it always did. A simple kiss had never turned him on like that. He wanted her immediately and he had to have her. There was no time to make it upstairs to the bedroom so he grabbed her by her shapely hips and picked her up, setting her on the counter.

Their lips crashed together, kissing so hard that it was almost painful. He liked it when her nails lightly raked against his heated flesh. He removed her shirt and sports bra and went to work on her sensitive breasts. She sighed in appreciation as he took his time, wanting to give her as much pleasure as humanly possible. Memphis loved when he took his time, loved when he kept looking up into her eyes.

His tongue made a trail further down her toned stomach, until he was able to remover her yoga pants and panties in one motion. He couldn't wait to tease her, to taste her and judging by her moans and reactions, he was doing a bang up job. He loved that. He loved getting her off. He loved the taste of her on his tongue, the lingering female scent on his nostrils. That kind of pleasure was reserved for her. He didn't go down on every woman he had sex with, and truth be told, in his day, he'd had sex with a lot of women. He had made a promise to himself to only do that with women he cared about and that had only been a selected few. Memphis Kramer was most definitely someone he cared about.

He pleasured her until she cried out, until she violently trembled beneath him, until her body went limp on the counter and she had to push him away because she was too sensitive to be touched again. That only turned him on more. He knew she would be raring to go in mere seconds and he always had the perfect motivator. Stepping back, Randy removed his shorts. He wasn't wearing any underwear. And he was ready for her. Her mouth watered and her eyes filled with lust at the mere sight. His body was perfect, especially that one dimension. Long. Thick. Hard. She lowered her heart shaped mouth over him.

His eyes told it all. Randy wasn't a big moaner. He grunted a lot, a few groans here and there and both loved to get down and dirty and talk shit to each other when the moment called for it. She knew he enjoyed it. She knew she did her job as a woman, as a girlfriend. She pleased him. She got him off. It was in his glazed over eyes. It was in his labored breathing. But just once, she wanted to do to him what he did to her so many times. She wanted to drive him crazy beyond belief and she wanted to hear about it. She wanted to hear him lose all control and scream out like a little bitch. Memphis had faced many obstacles, many personal challenges in her young life and she had managed to overcome every single one. This would be no different.

She went to town, bobbing her head back and forth, keeping a steady pace, using lots of hand action, lots of tongue action, getting as wet and sloppy as possible. Randy leaned back and his eyes rolled back in his head. She didn't stop. Just kept going the way he liked it, studying his reaction. Randy was in heaven. His girl definitely knew how to give him a blow job and the eye contact, her eyes never leaving him the whole time made it even more of a turn on.

"Fuck," he grunted under his breath.

She quickened her pace, clenched her mouth around him a little tighter and Randy bit his lip and closed his eyes.

Memphis was in control and he had to admit the role reversal intrigued him. When he knew he was done being sucked off, that he wanted nothing more than to plow himself deep inside her, he tried to push her away but she wouldn't stop. The pleasure was intense and several times he was on the brink of losing it on the spot. She was in charge and wanted him to know it. Nothing was sexier than seeing her stand up, naked and sweaty, hair all over the place. She pushed him down onto the counter top and straddled him.

She pushed him inside of her. At first the head, then she lowered herself over him, slowly, rising back up, lowering a little more…she teased him into frustration until she took him all in, making them both gasp. Randy felt like he might explode right then and there. She was warm, dripping wet and tight…just the way it was supposed to be. She squeezed her muscles even tighter around him and rode him hard and fast. It felt as good as anything Randy had ever felt in his life. Grabbing both his hands, she leaned her body back into a bridge like position, still keeping her pace. It bent him in a weird position inside her, intense new sensations, almost bordering on pain. Normally he was the one calling the sexual shots. He had never submitted to any woman anymore…his ego wouldn't let him. And as much as he had loved Sam, she could never even comprehend his nastiest primal needs and wants. This was great, almost perfect…except for one thing. He wasn't in control. He was losing it. Though he trusted Memphis, though he was more comfortable with her than he had been with any other woman, it just wasn't that easy to completely let down his guard…sexual or otherwise.

But she was relentless in her pursuit. She squeezed tighter. The physical feeling for her was unlike anything she had experienced. Memphis contorted her flexible body even more and as she experienced the most powerful orgasm she'd ever had, she cried out, yelped, moaned almost inhumanly. Her body was spent and she had nothing left, not an ounce of energy. Her throat could not emit another sound. But why was there still screaming. Memphis sat up to Randy convulsing, hands digging into her womanly hips for support, shaking and moaning and making all kinds of noises she had never heard from him…or any man for that matter.

That was it. She had done it. The ultimate quest had been fulfilled. A satisfied, shit eating grin crossed her lips. She got off of him and stood over him as his damn near lifeless frame still lay sprawled awkwardly over the counter. Memphis circled him as he eyed her with a confused expression. Nodding, she smirked and threw both arms back and into the air, head tilted back.

They both burst out laughing. When giggling with Melina and Nattie about sex during their girl talk, the most asked question she got was if Randy ever did his classic "Orton pose" after lovemaking. Surprisingly, he never had. But now that Memphis had made him tap out, the honor, the bragging rights…the "Orton pose" all belonged to her.

As she collapsed on his damp chest and relished the feel of his massive arms cuddling her, she couldn't help but feel closer to him. There was unspoken intimacy and trust. Sure they had their rocky moments and rough patches, but maybe just maybe, they would be in it for the long haul. If so, there would have to come a time whey there could be no more mystery, no secrets between them. That would take time. Memphis herself was enveloped in a cloud of secrecy but then again so was Randy. Slowly those layers were being chipped away, even if it was something like submitting during sex. Maybe one day he would be able to open up to her about his days in the military. And maybe one day he would tell her all about other stuff, like that mysterious bill from a Vermont nursing home.

**Author's Note: Sorry for the lack of updates. I have been working on these chapters for a few weeks now, writing ahead, so that I can update more frequently. Thanks for your continued support and patience.**


	60. TMI

The weather was brutally warm and dry in Arizona and that was a welcome change for Memphis. Cold weather was never her thing anyway and moving from Florida was a climate change culture shock. Donning shorts, a tank and flip flops, she had used her free time during the early part of the day to accompany Vickie Guerrero to one of the local malls. It was a little girl bonding time where they could relax, gossip, and get their manis and pedis in. Vickie was another person Memphis had grown close with. Thank goodness she was unlike her annoying on-air persona. In real life, she was a sweet woman and one of the most revered and well-liked talent in the locker room. Memphis, whose relationship with her own mother was practically non-existent, particularly enjoyed the maternal wisdom and caring that Vickie exuded.

Randy had been tied up with media all day. Memphis left him alone usually to tackle that. All their media appearances were always separate anyway. He was scheduled first to do 98 KUPD's Real Rock Radio show and after that some local TV. Memphis knew she would probably catch up with him around two or three in the afternoon. So she enjoyed her time with Vickie and when they made it back to the arena, most of the roster was already there. The crew was already going about the rigorous schedule of setting up the ring and the lights. Everyone else was hanging around talking, shooting the shit. One of the radios had been tuned in to where Randy was doing his interview. Memphis couldn't help but smile when she heard his voice.

The interviewers were light hearted and joking and seemingly excited that Randy was there. Apparently that station always interviewed a big Superstar whenever the WWE was in town. The first thing they inquired about was why he was oily all the time. Wet hair and oiled bodies was pretty much a staple in professional wrestling. The goal was to have a shine, so to speak. But everyone knew Randy Orton took that to a whole other level. There had been times, literally, when Memphis could play "follow the grease spots" to find out her boyfriend's location. The secret ingredient? Good old Johnson's and Johnson's. The radio jocks ribbed him endlessly, to which Randy good naturedly replied, "My girl will look me right in the eye and say, 'Babe, that is way too much oil'. She makes fun of me all the time."

"So she doesn't think it's sexy?"

"Nah, she thinks it pretty gross. I'll mess with her. After a match, I'm all sweaty and it mixes with the oil and gets super shiny so I'll chase her around and be all greasy and rub up on her. She hates it," he laughed.

"Now, now. This is a PG show, Randy," they kidded him.

Memphis felt her heart flutter. Public acknowledgment, especially from Randy, was a huge deal. It felt weird but it was still nice. They went on and on and Memphis burst out laughing as the guys teased Randy about one of his prolonged "Orton poses". Ha! If they only knew. And then the million dollar question…they asked if ever did the Orton pose with his girlfriend. "You do have a girlfriend, you said, right?" Randy cleared his throat. "Yeah. Yeah, I do. And um…to answer your question, no I have never done that to her but uh, when she puts it down on me really good, she'll do it. But I can't say much more than that, cause if she hears me, she'll f'n kill me."

Memphis blushed. She could let that one go but was glad he was smart enough to quit while he was ahead. But in mentioning that little tidbit, he had opened up a portal.

"So, you said you have a girlfriend, and uh, we pretty much know who she is. It's not exactly a secret anymore. You did confirm it on your Twitter account a while back. It's Memphis…"

"Yeah. Memphis Kramer," Randy spoke.

"And Memphis is not a normal person, meaning she is employed by the WWE as well. She's pretty famous in her own right. For those listeners of ours living under a rock and don't know who Memphis is, she is that smoking hot female referee."

"Smoking hot," the other man emphasized.

"Dude, you're hittin' that?" the original guy asked.

"What can I say?" Randy played coy.

"Now, it is an interesting story, I suppose because the word is, there is a little backstage drama, controversy, if you will, regarding you two and how you got together. It was a known fact that she was dating fellow WWE Superstar, CM Punk and then all of a sudden, she wasn't. The next thing we know, she is on your bus, pictures surface on the Internet of you two making out. And now you're like boyfriend and girlfriend. So that's gotta be an awkward situation. Did you steal Memphis from Punk?"

Memphis felt her heart race. She looked around. More people had gathered. Now the interview had everyone's attention. You could hear a pin drop in that arena, waiting on Randy's response.

"Look, man, you can't steal someone a way from anyone. That's bull, kind of a cop out, don't you think? Yeah, Memphis was dating Punk and me and her…it's kind of a funny story because when I first met her, we didn't really get along. But things happened and I don't even feel like getting into it all. Anyway, she and Punk were dating and I was spending time with her and the friendship kind of developed and we hooked up and the rest is kind of history."

Memphis could not believe what she had just heard.

"Define hooking up."

"Sex, come on, man," Randy laughed out loud.

"So you had sex with Memphis while she was still with Punk?"

"Yeah," he answered nonchalantly.

"Why?" one of the guys asked.

"Why not?" Randy shot back.

"Wow! Unbelievable."

"Did she leave Punk right away?"

"Nope," Randy volunteered.

"No?!" they asked in unison.

"Memphis is a sweet girl, she felt sorry for the guy. She didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings, you know? I told her to dump him and just get it over with but she didn't. You know how women can be."

"Did you feel bad?"

"Nope," Randy answered with a heartless chuckles. "Finder's keepers, right? Not my fault he doesn't know how to keep a girlfriend."

Everyone's mouths fell over in pure shock. Sure backstage personal business sometimes made its way to the dirt sheets but there was also a code of honor in that locker room. No one, still with the company would have sack enough to blatantly put their co-worker's drama on blast like that. It was just an implied no-no and here Randy was, without a second thought, embarrassing his girlfriend and Phil Brooks.

Memphis was absolutely frozen. What the hell was Randy thinking? There was no excuse, he more than knew better. She felt disgusted, humiliated. He had gone too far this time, way too far. It wasn't cute or funny…it was just hurtful. He had hurt her badly. And the only thing worse than how she was feeling was to look up. Phil had happened to join the crowd, probably to see what all the fuss was about. And he had heard everything. He looked in her eyes. His expression was cold and steely but she knew deep down, as he turned to walk away, that he had to be affected by what had just been said.

But the fun did not stop there. The conversation turned to Barbara "Kelly Kelly" Blank. Randy just kept on running his mouth talking about all the guys who had "method acted" or had sex with her. The interviewers were laughing and hooting and hollering and egging him on. And he was running with it, just eating it all up. Having no problem talking about everyone's personal relationships and business. He went on to talk about Jericho not having permission to do Dancing With The Stars. He bragged about taking the reigns as the current locker room leader.

He went on to talk about some of the bad choices he had made in life. The reasons behind his many WWE suspensions became an open book. He discussed his battle with opiate addiction. He talked about nearly overdosing accidentally one night and Sam, who had been lying beside him, had made a call to 911 that ultimately saved his life. He tackled the sensitive subject as casual as he was talking about his favorite food. And all this had been news to Memphis. She was aware of the bad boy behavior and the drinking and the marijuana use and countless suspensions. There was talk that there had been more heavier drug use but Randy had never once discussed that in detail with Memphis. But in a radio interview with thousands of listeners tuning in and millions more that would surely follow on YouTube, it was like a tell-all free for all.

Nothing was off limits. He bashed The Rock and his return. Praised his good friend John Cena. Talked about pissing off Vince McMahon and John Laurenitis. Chewed tobacco on air and chuckled when they called him out on it. Said great things about Sheamus and blasted the in-ring capability of Mark Henry, after a solid minute of originally putting him over. Giggled when they talked about racial stereo-typing. Proudly admitted to shitting on himself on his kitchen floor as a grown man, the result of a new protein mix. Talked about some in-ring stuff and a recent concussion he had suffered. He better be having one now, Memphis thought. That would be the only excuse for his behavior. And even then that was no excuse.

He talked about the kind of woman he was attracted to. Apparently he wasn't into rail thin chicks. He favored brunettes. Catherine Zeta-Jones and Sofia Vergara were among his celebrity crushes. He liked big boobs. He made sure to point out that his girlfriend's tits were awesome…and real. He said Memphis was the ideal woman because of her "great hair, beautiful teeth, gorgeous face, and hour glass figure." "She's a pretty cool chick, too," he remembered to add with a dumb frat boy laugh.

Finally, the disaster was over. Memphis could not believe she had just sat through 42 minutes of that nonsense. And Randy seemed as cocky and happy as ever. Not a hint of remorse or shame or regret in his voice as he ended things by promoting the upcoming show. Looking around, every eye was on her. Even Vince McMahon who had been backstage for the upcoming RAW. Swallowing hard, Memphis just walked away. What else could she do?

"You okay?" Melina whispered as Memphis walked by.

She did not answer her good friend. Instead she saw Barb standing alone away from everyone. She looked devastated. There were actual tears in her eyes. Sure she had a reputation and Barb did her thing without apology and did not care whether you agreed with it or not. She was a sweet girl and it was common knowledge she made her way around the locker room. Some of the guys were married or had girlfriends and some did not. To Barbie, it did not matter. They, meaning the WWE family, all knew that. The entire world did not need to know it. Randy had no right.

"Oh my God, Barbara. I, I don't know what to say…"

Barb tried to hold her head high.

"It's not your fault, Memphis. What's done is done. I can't believe he would do something like that but then again, I am not surprised either. Randy Orton has no class. He is ignorant. And I am not gonna even entertain his stupidity."

Memphis just nodded. She could only agree with the statement and overall perspective.

"I'm sorry," she reiterated before walking away.

How could it be? How could Randy be so sweet, so wonderful, how could they share so many awesomely perfect moments and then he turn around and put his foot in his mouth and in the course of it all, manage to ruin everything they had, months of his own personal progress in one hour?


	61. The Big Bang Theory

After the disastrous radio interview escapade, there was nothing else for Memphis to do but hide out. She was humiliated, once again at the hands of Randy Orton. She didn't feel like explaining or answering questions or facing anyone, even though she was on friendly terms with most everyone backstage and she knew none of them would blame her for her boyfriend's irresponsible actions.

Later on, she took a shower and dressed into her referee garb. She pulled her hair back and put on her makeup. The outfit was neatly pressed and crisp. Outward appearances were everything. She had fought a tremendous battle against the powers that be about her uniform. She wanted it to be professional and closely resembled to her male counterparts. They wanted it sexier…perhaps a tank with the midriff baring. Memphis had won that fight because it was important to her not to be thought of as a joke. Once again, Randy had ruined that.

She walked into the corridor headed towards Gorilla. She knew in an hour or so, they would begin opening the doors for the thousands of fans who had waited outside. As usual, everyone was busy and running around preparing for the live show. She ignored the stares. She was used to that. Randy had prepared her well for that when she had first started with the company. It was funny how the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Turning the corner, she nearly collided with someone. It was Randy. He was in full wrestling gear…trunks, Viper tee shirts, boots and knee pads. He was just as greasy as ever, this time in more ways than one. Their eyes met and she waited. She waited for him to lower his head. She waited for him to apologize profusely. She waited for some kind of reaction. There was none.

"Hey babe," he said casually.

Memphis shot him daggers.

"Randy…"

"I sent you a text, called your phone. It went straight to voicemail."

"Really?" she did her best Miz impression.

He frowned.

"What's wrong with you?"

Memphis had had it. She was not one to make a public scene. Any disagreement she had with Randy was discussed privately behind closed doors but he had already put their business out there. In fact, he had put everyone's business out there.

"No, I think I should be asking what is wrong with you?"

"Memphis…"

"Have you lost what is left of your mind?" she put her hands on her hips. "How could you?"

"What the hell did I do now?"

Memphis laughed in spite of the situation.

"You know what? The sad thing is, you don't even know. You're standing there looking at me and you don't even comprehend what you just did."

Randy rolled his eyes.

"Look, I didn't know it was that time of the month. I don't know why you're pissed and I honestly don't feel like kissing your ass and playing guessing games right now. If you're gonna be a bitch right now, I'll just talk to you later."

He moved to walk around her but she stopped him right there, physically grabbing his arm. Now everyone in the hallway was looking their way.

"Fuck you! You're not walking way, not this time!

"Memphis!"

"The radio interview?"

Randy stopped. It had been all in good fun. He really hadn't meant any harm. In fact, it was more like guy talk, kicking back over a few brews. But it wasn't that. It was press. It was him representing the WWE. And he had behaved terribly unprofessionally. He had heard about it no sooner than he had left the station. Vince McMahon was pissed. When he arrived at the arena, everyone was glaring at him. He could admit he had gone too far but it wasn't like it was the end of the world or anything.

"Look," he sighed. "I screwed up. Trust me, I have already heard about it."

"And that's it?"

"What?"

"Are you sorry?"

"Yeah, Memphis, I'm sorry."

She did not like his tone.

"You don't sound very fucking sorry!"

He looked around. He hated everybody watching and listening to everything. He roughly grabbed Memphis' hand and dragged her into the empty Green Room, slamming the door behind them.

"Don't ever fucking try that shit in front of people again, you got me?" he pointed at her, teeth gritted.

"You have done a lot of shitty things but today took the cake."

"What is the big fucking deal?" he muttered.

"You really have to ask that?"

"It's not like I lied," he defended.

"And that makes it all better?"

"Look Memphis…"

"How could you humiliate Barb like that? Randy, that was so messed up on so many levels! And I don't want care whether or not it's true. That is her business. It was not your place to call her out in front of the world. You might not care but she is a real human being with real feelings. It wasn't right."

"Fine. I'll apologize to Barb."

"Don't do me any favors."

"I shouldn't have said it. Damn. What else do you want from me?"

"I want you to grow up, how about that?"

"I can't take it back."

"No, you can't and that's what makes it so bad. You really hurt me."

He threw his hands up in frustration.

"If you won't accept an apology, what am I supposed to do?"

"I just want us to be close. I want us to mean something. I get that you have trust issues or whatever and that its hard to open up. I am the same way. But if I am your girlfriend, you have to at least make an effort."

"And I haven't?"

Memphis felt the tears coming.

"You never told me about the drugs. Dammitt, Randy, I knew it was bad, I didn't know it was that bad. And to hear about it on a goddamned radio show in front of everyone we work with? That was like a punch in the gut."

Randy looked away.

"I'm not proud of that shit. I'm a fuck up. That's what I do, Memphis. I used to get fucked up on pills a lot. I liked getting high. It messed up my life. I got suspended, I lost Sam and I nearly died. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Randy…"

"Cause that's the truth. And I don't think you want to hear that. I don't think you're ready for it. You just want to hear about hearts and flowers and rainbows and unicorns and all that other romanticized bullshit that doesn't exist in real life. Look, babe, I hate to break it to you but in case you didn't notice, I'm not Mr. Straight Edge. I made some mistakes, bad ones. And I am ashamed of it. But it is what it is. It's my life, my past."

"Why couldn't you share it with me?"

"Get off my dick!" Randy yelled at her. "Would you quit smothering me?"

"Oh now I am smothering you?" Memphis got in his face.

"When you act like a bitch and nag and demand that I confess to you every thing I have ever done in my life, yeah, it is a little smothering. This isn't goddamned therapy hour last time I checked."

"I don't see how this is going to work…"

"Oh here we go again. Nice, Memphis, real nice. Every single time we have a motherfucking argument, you have to act like a spoiled little kid and threaten to break up with me. Your threats are getting kind of old and you should know I don't like to be threatened…by anyone."

"Don't you turn this around on me. Randy, you know how I feel about you. You know that I want to be with you. But I don't want someone that has no care or concern for hurting other people's feelings. And I don't want to be with that careless, tacky guy that was running his mouth this morning for what…laughs? Attention? Come on, Ran. You are better than that. I just want you to be a good guy, a real man…the person you have shown me the last few months. And I do want you to trust me and open up to me. We all make mistakes. I would never hold that against you, judge you for it…or feel for you any less."

He sighed.

"I was out of line. I guess I have a lot of apologizing to do for this morning and it starts with you."

"You made me look like a whore on the air."

"I didn't mean to. You're not a whore. I'm sorry."

"Yeah? Me too. God, everyday I have to live with what I did. I cheated on Phil. I hurt him, betrayed his trust. I feel awful for it. He will never forgive me and I don't blame him. It is bad enough with all of us working together, this tension. But what you did…you can't. I know you two never got along and never will but that gives you no right to rub salt in his open wound. And it gives you no right to make me look like a slut. You're not the only one that made mistakes in life. One of the biggest I made was so I could be with you. That's how much you meant to me, Ran. So please don't make me regret it. And please don't rub it in my face or put it out there for the whole world to judge me. Because that sucks. And when you do that, you suck, too."

Randy usually spoke and acted first and thought last. It was a major character flaw, one that always came back to haunt him. This was no different. He had messed up again. And he was sorry.

"Babe," he tried to hold her.

Memphis squirmed out of his embrace.

"I can't. Not right now. You're sorry and I guess that is really all you can say but right now, I just need to be away from you."

With that, Memphis exited the Green Room. Walking ahead back towards Gorilla was when she saw him. Phil was dressed in his gear as well. And he looked furious. She knew Randy was behind her. When Phil saw him, he took off on a dead sprint that ended in a full on charge. He grunted as he lunged at Randy, nearly knocking Memphis off her feet in the process. The two titans collapsed on the floor in a thud, curse words and fists flying. It seemed like forever but the actual physical confrontation lasted less than a minute as the entire locker room was on hand to break it up.

"Fuck you! Fuck you, motherfucker!" a red faced Phil yelled at the top of his lungs as it literally took five men to restrain him.

"You ain't shit, boy!" Randy called out.

"You want to keep running your mouth, I swear on everything that I love, I am gonna do my best to keep sticking my boot in it!"

"You want some, come get some!"

"I don't need a fucking invitation, asshole!"

Memphis was horrified. Phil stormed off and she chased after him, sobbing.

"Phil! Phil! Please wait…"

He stopped and turned, fire in his eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me? What are you doing? Memphis, just go!"

"Please…"

"No! This is all your fucking fault! I don't want your excuses or apologies or explanations! How many fucking times do I have to spell this out for you? And you honestly think turning on the water works is gonna make a difference? It doesn't! It won't! I fucking hate you! Do you hear that? I can't stand your lying, skank ass!"

"Phil," she cried out one last agonizing time.

Just then Randy rounded the corner but there would not be a second altercation. Another towering, intimidating presence joined them. And he would not be ignored.

"Enough!" Vince McMahon commanded. "What the hell is this? Huh? What is wrong with you people?"

"Talk to that stupid dickhead over there," Randy pointed at Phil.

"Oh shut the fuck up!" Phil retorted.

"How about both of you shut up?" Vince interjected again. "I am sick of this! This bad blood has been brewing for years! And _you_…" he turned to Memphis, with disdain all over his face. "This is all your fault because you couldn't keep your legs closed!"

"Vince!" Randy warned.

"I am not putting up with this night in and night out! You two want to kill each other, tear each other apart? Fine! Go for it! I will let you do it on the grandest stage of them all! I will let you do it at Wrestlemania but goddammitt, you won't do it backstage at my shows! You got that?"

With that he stormed off and a few referees that had joined, pulled Phil away. Memphis turned to see the sick smile on Randy's face. Kayfabe or not, if they had the opportunity for any physical confrontation, it would be devastating. Tear each other apart is exactly what they would do. And it would not make things better. It would not be the end of it. It would only make them worse. Far worse than any of them could ever imagine.


	62. Doomsday Preppers

Day had turned to dusk, the sky turning a glorious purple haze, streaked with gold. The bus barreled down the interstate at almost 75 miles per hour. Memphis, clad in sweatpants and a hoodie, knees hugged to her chest, hair in a messy bun, watched absently out the window. It was a blessing to travel the open roads, to see the country like that and it was a sight Memphis usually cherished. But this particular evening, a lot weighed on her mind. She didn't have time to take in the sights of the cities and countryside.

In a few days, it would be Wrestlemania. It was supposed to be a happy time…the best week of the year. The week leading up to the event was filled with events and activities. There was the Hall of Fame and then the big night itself on Sunday. Memphis had been looking forward to it ever since she had accepted her position with the WWE. She was especially excited because she knew she would get to referee a match, possibly two. When she received final orders, she knew she was refereeing a single match…not the Main Event but certainly a showstopper, a real headliner.

It had only been announced two weeks prior. There had been no real feud leading up to it. This one was personal…damned personal. Vince McMahon was not beneath incorporating real life events, no matter how tragic or troublesome they were, into story lines for the show. This would be no different. Sordid details of a trashy love triangle gone wrong had soiled the dirt sheets for a month. Now the rumors were true. All confirmed firsthand. Randy Orton's interview had thrown gasoline on an already raging fire.

The buildup was exciting. Audio bytes of Randy's interview played on the TV clips. Randy and Phil held nothing back in the way of their mutual hatred for one another. They spewed their profanity laced venom in a series of scathing promos that they had ad-libbed themselves. The sound department had to delay any lived televised interaction between them by 10 seconds in order to censor all the foul language. The story hit the dirt sheets and spilled over into the mainstream gossip columns. It was the talk of the Web and everyone had an opinion.

In the court of public opinion, the match up was seen as an epic battle between two of the WWE's most talented Superstars. No one seemed to care why. There was blame to shift and that finger had already been pointed right at Memphis Kramer. She was the vixen. She was a whore. She had come between these two men. It was all her fault. And for the first time in her WWE career, when Memphis marched down the ramp, it was not to thunderous applause but instead to chants of "slut" and handmade signs that bore far worse, some so bad, security had to confiscate them.

Phil refused to talk to her, look at her even. He and Randy were deliberately kept apart whenever possible. They had several face to face spots on air to build up to the biggest pay per view in history and when that happened, security was extra tight and the Superstars and male referees were never far away, just in case. Through it all, Memphis was still with Randy. She was still his girlfriend. They still lived and traveled together. They worked together. They shared a bed. Occasionally, they even had sex. The tension existed even between them. Randy was ecstatic about the chance to finally get his hands on his long time foe. Memphis was distraught. The only thing worse was that she was to be the referee to officiate it all. Every time she thought about being in the ring with those two, it made her physically ill.

"You gonna eat?" Randy asked as he stood and began gathering his trash. "You hardly touched those little pot sticker things you like so much."

The bus had stopped at a local Friday's for takeout. Memphis had ordered food but she did not have the appetite to eat that much of it.

"Nah," she frowned. "I'm not really hungry."

He took her plate away and wrapped it up, put it in the fridge.

"You want to watch a movie or something?" he suggested.

Memphis shook her head.

"No."

"You tired?"

"Kind of. Can't really sleep, though."

"Want to talk? Play some cards?"

"Not really."

He smirked.

"I guess sex is out of the question then, huh?"

Memphis just looked at him.

"Seriously? That isn't funny, Ran."

Sometimes he exasperated her so that she just felt like hauling off and slapping him.

"I don't know what else to say. Lately the only time you ever talk to me is cause you're mad at me. I just hate how this is. It sucks. You won't even look at me."

"Look, don't take it so personal, okay? I am exhausted and I just want this to be over. All of it."

"Me too."

"No…really over."

"It will be soon, Sunday night."

That seemed to be everyone's answer, big solution for everything. Sunday night would magically make everything alright.

"Will it? Will it really? Or will it just be the start? Because I am not so sure anymore. Gah, Randy, I can't take this. It's so sickening."

"Babe…"

"The guilt alone is eating me alive. It's killing me."

He closed his eyes.

"Vince is a real piece of shit for saying what he said to you and he knows it. You can't listen to him. Don't let that shit get to you. He talks out of his ass and because of who he is, he gets away with it. I'm telling you, if you'd just said the word, I would have punched him in his face."

"And all three of us would have been fired on the spot. That's the only thing that could make this whole mess even worse. Your out of control temper is not helping matters. You and Phil are two hot heads."

It was true but it still touched a nerve any time any person compared Randy to his arch nemesis, Phil Brooks.

"Look, it'll all blow over soon. Next month something else will go down and the fans won't give a shit anymore. That's just how things work in this business."

"I know that but it's kind of beside the point, don't you think? That's just it. Don't you get it? Don't you see? It's not a business. It's not just a goddamned storyline. This is my life. Nobody seems to understand that. Understand it or give a shit. It's our lives. It is our pain that is being broadcast for the whole world to see and for what…entertainment? Vince is whoring it out, airing all this dirty laundry and we are his willing participants, why? To make money? To draw a bigger pay per view audience? What the fuck, Ran? That makes me sick. All of it. And none of this ever would have happened if I hadn't lied and cheated. I own that, as much as it sucks, as terribly painful as it is, I can't get mad at what Vince said because it's true."

Randy walked over to her. She was so upset. He genuinely felt bad for her.

"Babe…"

"I'm scared. I feel so weak and ashamed for feeling that way and for saying it but I am afraid."

"Of what?"

"Of what it's going to be like that when you and Phil go at each other. And afraid of having to walk out there in front of all those people judging me, hating me…blaming me."

"Memphis…"

"All my career, all my life even, I have been ridiculed. Things were just starting to make sense, to be okay. And now they are not. I don't want to work like this. I don't want to live like this. It's the same feeling I felt when I first started here and you and I weren't getting along. It's the same fucking awful feeling," her voice began to break.

"Don't cry. It's gonna be okay."

"Ran…"

"It has to happen. You can't change it, you can't stop it. That guy hates my guts. And guess what? The feeling is mutual. Every time we walk by each other, we want to kill each other. The confrontation, staged or real, was bound to happen. And you know what? If we make a little money out of it, so be it. It's just the name of the game."

"How can you say that, even think like that, like it's okay? That's disgusting, Randy. That is not a game I want to play, not anymore. I never did. That's what I don't get about you. Some things are off limits and they should just remain that way."

"I didn't do it. Damn, Memphis, I didn't do it but it's done. What do you want me to do about it? Vince has spoken. They have promoted the hell out of this thing. Everybody was talking about it and putting their two cents in it anyway."

"I know."

"It's gonna happen and I won't lie…I'm okay with it. I know that's not what you want to hear but I'm not gonna lie to you. I know where I stand but I need to know where your head is. I guess I just want to know what this means for us."

"You tell me."

"Don't do that. Come on."

She blew out a deep breath.

"I still want to be with you, if that's what you're asking. You know that. It would probably be a whole lot easier if I did not feel that way but I do and…you can't help how you feel."

"Way to make a guy feel good," Randy mumbled, half joking.

"That's not what I mean. I want you. I want to be with you, point blank. I just want us to be okay. I want us to be without this drama, this heavy black cloud hanging over all our heads. And yeah, I want Phil to be okay, too. He deserves that. He deserves way more than that."

"You care a whole lot about Phil. Sometimes I feel like you care more about him than you do me."

"How dare you! Don't you ever go there with me! I am here, Randy. Look around, dammitt. I am with you now, aren't I? Where am I sitting right now? I am on your bus. I had to make a choice and I chose you. Despite the pain and trouble it has caused so many of us, I don't regret that. So as long as you live, as long as we are together, don't you ever say that to me."

"Come here," he beckoned. "I didn't mean to get you all upset. I'm sorry."

"No," she swatted his hand away. "Just stop it. Leave me alone. I just need to think, okay? I am upset. Everything about this situation upsets me and I am just trying to deal with it, get through the rest of this week somehow. I know you mean well, I know you just want to talk but I can't right now. It's just gonna lead to a fight and I don't want that to happen. So let me get through this, let me get through being heckled by hundreds of thousands of people, let me get through watching you and Phil beat the hell out of each other. And next Monday morning, I pray that you are right and everything is okay."

Randy just nodded. He knew there was no comforting her, no reasoning with her. He got it. He stood and walked back towards the main bedroom on the bus, to the bed they shared. They were in agreement on one thing…they couldn't wait for it to be over. But probably for different reasons. He was trying to be a better man for Memphis, a better human being in general but when it came down to it, Randy just did not have the heart that Memphis had. He didn't give a shit about Phil or his feelings at all. And he couldn't hardly wait for Sunday night. Win or lose, this would be one for the record books.


	63. Clash Of The Titans

Memphis' heart pounded as she waited by the Gorilla. It was one of the hardest nights of her life. Everyone knew that professional wrestling was kayfabe, sports entertainment, scripted storylines and pre-determined endings. But that was not why people watched it. That is not why Memphis herself became a fan. It was all about the magic that led up to that ending. And on a nightly basis, two guys could be opponents in that ring and beat the hell out of each other from five to 35 minutes, then go grab a steak and a beer together an hour later. That was the beauty of their sport.

And how many pre-production meetings had Memphis been apart of in her career? She would listen intently as to know what spots to look for, how to make sure everything was running smoothly and on time, how to know which wrestler would get over. For some of the greener talent on the roster, the moves and pace was choreographed right down to the very second. For seasoned veterans, there was more room for spontaneity. And in the few short weeks it had been announced that Randy Orton and CM Punk would settle their personal differences in the middle of the squared circle on Wrestlemania night, the match and the real life drama that had fueled it, had quickly taken center stage on the card. Everyone had gathered around backstage to watch it live. Vince had gone to great lengths to keep everything hush hush. Now there were only minutes left and the air of mystery and anticipation held heavy in the air.

Randy approached first. Oily, tanned, and looking like a goddamned Greek god. He walked up to his girlfriend. He was in a serious mood but nevertheless feeling cocky. He couldn't wait to get his hands on his nemesis and when Punk joined everyone as well, it was easy to see the feeling was more than mutual. The tension was so thick, one could have cut it with a knife. Memphis literally felt ill and just wanted the night to be over.

It was supposed to be an awesome week. They were all supposed to enjoy Axxess and the Hall of Fame and finally the big night. But it had been quite the opposite. Memphis had been distracted and on edge the entire time during autograph signings and interviews. Things were also still tense and uncomfortable with Randy. Backstage was buzzing with gossip and during the Hall of Fame ceremony, the camera guys had zoomed in on Randy and Memphis more than the actual inductees. Vince's strategical seating assignment that only separated them from Phil by a row only added to the misery.

"Alright everyone," Vince marched up to the participants. "This confrontation was bound to happen. Randy, Phil…you two want to rip each other apart? Well, here is your chance. You two have hated each other for years. Tonight is the night. There are no rules, no boundaries and no planned spots. As long as you put on a hell of a show and in the process not actually kill the other guy, I am game for whatever happens."

"Mr. McMahon," Memphis whispered in a pleading tone.

"Only stipulation?" he ignored her. "Punk gets over."

"What?" Randy asked in disbelief. "Come on, Vince! You cannot be serious!"

Vince just smirked.

"After all the shit you have pulled over the years and now this mess you created…did you really think I'd let you walk out of Wrestlemania with a victory and the Championship?"

Randy spat on the floor.

"What the fuck ever. I'll drop the belt. I don't care. The checks still cash the same. As long as I get to beat the shit out of this motherfucker…"

"This is the motherfucker that is going to give you the beating of your life," Punk sneered. "Better go call Daddy or get on you knees and pray to your god. I sure as hell can't think of anything else that can save your ass."

"You've got less than five minutes…try to conduct yourselves like the gentlemen you're obviously not," Vince scoffed and straightened his designer jacket.

Memphis wrapped her arms around herself. Could it get any worse?

"Memphis, you're on," a PA let her know.

She nodded and started to make her way out. She stopped and looked back at Phil. Fire burned his eyes. She looked over at Randy. Ice water flowed in his. Shaking her head, she walked out. The ramp was almost triple the normal length for Wrestlemania. Justin Roberts announced her and the very mention of the name was drowned out in a sea of boos. It was personal and it was hurtful and extremely hard to deal with. It was the longest walk of her life, couldn't have been any worse if she were walking to her death and in a way, that's what it felt like.

She climbed the steps and entered the ring as Justin politely held the ropes. He gave her an encouraging and sympathetic nod. She took a deep breath and put on her game face. Their words and jeers, their signs that read "_whore_" and "_don't worry, Memphis screwed my boyfriend, too_" did not effect her. Standing in the center of the ring, the Titantron briefly recapped the feud. Memphis suppressed genuine rage when real life personal pictures of her and Phil and then she and Randy, were used to add fuel to the fire.

The lights dimmed and "Voices" began to play. The crowd booed loudly once more as the WWE Champion sauntered down the ramp with a cool smirk on his face. He lived for moments like that. He slid between the ropes, walking right by Memphis looking in her eyes before standing to do an extra long yet classic Orton pose. Memphis did not react, not even when Phil walked out. When the lights came on, the two foes met in the center of the ring. A "CM Punk" chant began in the stands. Memphis stood between them. The introductions were given and there was no stopping the inevitable. Street fight rules. Real life hatred. All she could do was signal them to ring the bell.

They locked up immediately, utter aggression outweighing the technical aspect. Punk pushed Randy into the corner and he unleashed a sea of kicks. Memphis could tell right away that the physical contact was more than real. These two adversaries were out for blood. When his opponent was down, Punk jumped into the audience and retrieved two steel chairs, wasting no time using them. Randy was struggling and the pain was intense and to get back in the fight, he threw a wild punch to the face.

He grabbed one of the chairs and slammed it hard against Punk's forehead, taking him down, drop kicking him out of the ring for good measure. It was on the floor now, an all out brawl looking more like a bar fight than a sporting event. They were wild and out of control, several times nearly falling into the front row. They took it to the announce tables, both Spanish and American and when it finally made it back to the ring, Randy exposed the turnbuckle.

Punk made it to his feet and delivered several Ric Flair style chops before a textbook flying knee straight to the face. Then it was back to bare knuckle brawling. Both were lost in anger but it made for a hell of a show. Within a matter of minutes, both men were busted open and blood was everywhere. There was no way of reasoning with them or maintaining order. And Memphis could only pray that Randy's neck was not broken when he got piledrived hard onto the steel steps. They made it back to the ring and after Randy recovered, he went for a cover for which Memphis made it to two. Punk kicked out. The momentum went back and forth. They knew what they were doing…chair shots and fists flying. They were putting it all on the line, reckless and foolishly risking limb and career just to beat each other up. Randy tried for several more pins but to no avail.

"You okay?" Memphis leaned in. "About 20 more minutes. Punk, you gotta give me a signal when you hit the GTS."

He ignored her and they shifted gears back towards wrestling. Powerslams. Bulldogs. Even a few classic submission holds. The fans were way into it and Memphis had taken emotion completely out of the game unphased as blood continued to pour. They even went for a few high flying moves, completely out of Randy's comfort zone and spots Punk had favored more in his younger Indy years. It was bloody and brutal and back and forth and they could have gone on all night punishing each other, despite the fact that both their bodies were spent. Memphis received a warning for time limit in her earpiece. It had already been 25 crazy minutes and she was being told to have them wrap it up in the next 10.

Memphis gave them the signal and it pissed her off when it looked they both were paying no attention her. If the no disqualification stipulation had not been in effect, she would have gladly gotten physical with both men, she was so mad. It felt like it would never end and it was getting to the point where someone was going to get seriously hurt. It was not a "Falls Count Anywhere" matchup so Punk would have to win inside the ring. When they made it back in, Memphis wedged between them.

"Next time you go for a pin, I am going to count it a three. You pull some shit and I swear to God I will put Randy over with an RKO."

She was mad as hell and when Randy went to knee Punk in the gut, Punk countered, took him down and put him in an Anaconda Vice. Randy was holding out, refusing to sell. If he had to lose, his pride would not let it be via submission but Memphis had had enough. When Randy got out of the hold, Punk went for the GTS and Memphis hit the three. Punk's music blared and the WWE Universe went crazy. Both men collapsed to the ground and Memphis did her officiating duties to check on both of them so she could let production know, via her mic that there was no real life need for a medic. Memphis handed over the title and attempted to raise Punk's hand. Punk snatched the Championship and jerked his hand away from her. He celebrated near the ropes but Randy was not to be outdone. He stood and grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow as he stormed over towards Memphis.

"You see this? You see it? You take the belt home tonight but I take your girl. I get the real prize and you will never have it again! You never did!" Randy taunted.

With that, he grabbed Memphis roughly by the arms and pulled her in, giving her a kiss. It was rough and hard, a primal display of territory claiming in lieu of tender affection. He sucked Memphis' lips hard, biting down. She cried out and squirmed away, nearly falling down as she wiggled out of his embrace. A look of horror and shame fell over her face. Her own blood dripped from her lip, mixing with Randy's. Her hand was shaking as she touched her face.

"Fuck you," Punk mouthed, shaking his head in disgust and exiting the ring.

Randy, still irate, grabbed Memphis' hand and practically dragged her up the ramp. She was humiliated and angry but more in shock than anything. The fans were in a frenzy, even throwing soda and beer at them as they walked. They made it to the back where the other talent had lined up as a customary show of respect for good work, though no one spoke a word. Vince just shook his head and stormed off. The only person that dared speak was John Cena.

"Hell of a work, gentlemen. Congratulations, you two just beat the holy hell out of each other. You'll be lucky if either one of you can walk tomorrow. I hope it was worth it to you. Whether it was or not, this is the end of the line. What's done is done and you damned sure can't kill each other every night. So it's over. Just let it be over."

Punk walked away and Randy wiped the blood from his forehead.

"Let's get out of here," he nodded to Memphis. "Let's shower on the bus."

He was a lunatic. He had to be if he actually thought she would go anywhere with him. Still holding her bruised lip, she simply walked away. She didn't care where she was going, she just knew she had to get the hell out of there.


	64. It's Over

Memphis was fighting mad by the time she got back to the hotel. It must have been quite the scene as she emerged from the taxi cab, long brown messily hanging from what was left of her haphazard bun, striped referee's shirt all wrinkled and pulled out of the black trousers, blood staining the clothing from her bruised mouth. People were staring but she did not care. She walked through the lobby and onto the elevator up to her suite, the one that she shared with Randy Orton. They still had two more nights there, due to RAW upcoming. It was the only week in pro wrestling where the talent and crew would spend up to seven nights in the same hotel room.

It was already tense. The week had been stressful leading up to the Orton Punk showdown. Wrestlemania week was supposed to be the best week in all of sports entertainment and Memphis had been particularly excited because it was her first one. But it had turned out to be a nightmare. It was the one altercation Memphis had been desperate to avoid but it was inevitable. It had happened and it was one for the ages. Two men had nearly killed each other. Years of animosity and downright hate had culminated in street fight rules. And if Vince McMahon's philosophy (making a dollar at any cost so long as it was in the name of entertainment) worked, then everybody won. The match had been a huge fan and commercial success, it would keep the media, non-sports affiliated and sports affiliated alike, talking about the WWE, and to top it off, both Phil and Randy would get nice little bonuses in their paychecks, equivalent to the average fan's yearly salary.

But money wasn't everything. Some things were more important, believe it or not. Dignity. Principle. It had killed her to watch an all out brawl, knowing that she was the reason for her it all, the proverbial straw that had broke the camel's back. It had been painful to see and her boyfriend's unexpected caveman like claim on her at the end had been humiliating…as if the whole Titantron promo, preceding radio interview, and numerous slanderous gossip that appeared several times a day on Superstar Scoop wasn't embarrassing enough.

She had no idea what she was going to do, where she was going to go. She just knew that she had to get out of that arena, away from Randy and Phil and Vince and the fans and everyone else. Cursing out loud, Memphis punched the wall. Then she took a look in the mirror at her face. She looked like she had been in a bit of a mini-brawl herself but it was only the result of a lover's kiss. Collapsing on the bed, she put her head in her hands and tried to get it together, to somehow clear her mind.

It was an hour and a half later that she heard fumbling at the door before it opened. It was Randy, of course. He sauntered in almost nonchalantly. He was wearing one of his Apex Predator tee shirts along with sneakers and workout shorts. An expensive gym bag was slung casually over one of his broad shoulders. He walked in the room and put the bag down before plugging his cell phone charger in the wall.

"Really Randy?" she asked after a minute.

He didn't even bother to look at her.

"What?"

She was floored.

"So you just walk in here like nothing even happened tonight and you refuse to even acknowledge me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he coolly replied.

Memphis leapt to her feet.

"Oh and thanks for being such a concerned boyfriend that you immediately fled the arena to come chase after and comfort me, you asshole," she sarcastically muttered. "I have been here like an hour and a half."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I had to ice down, get checked out by the trainers."

"You ever heard of a phone?"

"You were upset. You left. You were already mad at me, hell, you've been mad at me for the past two weeks. Nothing I do or say is right anymore, it doesn't comfort you, so why bother?"

She threw her hands in the air.

"You are so unbelievable. You know that? Unbelievable and selfish!"

Randy chuckled.

"If you think I am gonna run after you and kiss your ass, I mean, if that was what the big exit was for…sorry, sweetheart, you got the wrong guy."

She closed her eyes.

"Don't you dare stand there and judge me and try to minimize my feelings because you don't have any. Excuse me for being so affected by what I just saw in the ring, two people that I care very much for each trying to end the other's career."

"Look, I don't want to keep hearing about that. Why do you insist on beating this dead horse? It was bound to happen. Whether it was you, whether it was Maria, whether it was the fact that we just don't fucking like each other and never have…it was just bound to happen. And it did. Yeah, it got crazy but so what? It's over, Memphis. Now we can all move on with our lives. It needed to happen and it did and now it is over."

He had a point but she was still angry that he wasn't respecting her feelings about how it had all come to happen.

"Randy…"

"For the love of Christ! What now? What is it, Memphis?"

"Look at me," she marched right up to him. "Look what you did to me! Don't you even care?"

He sighed. Of course he cared.

"I am sorry about the bruise. And if it hurts, yeah, I am sorry about that, too. Not my intention."

"Not your intention?" she folded her arms. "Well, why don't you enlighten me? Tell me, what the hell exactly was your intention when you did that to me in front of the whole world!"

"Me and Phil tore each other apart and in the process, probably put on the best match of the night. Vince let him get over because either he felt sorry for him or he thought he was sticking it to me or maybe both but guess what? I don't give a fuck. Yeah, I said it's over and I meant that. As far as I am concerned, everything is squashed. I still don't like the guy and never will. We ain't gonna be best friends anytime soon and that's okay. But unless he gets in my face or your face and starts some shit, there should never be another confrontation between us. That's how I feel about the situation but him standing in the ring trying to look all victorious like he got the best of me? Fuck that. Despite all the shit he talks to you, he still loves you. He still wants to be with you and that was just my way of telling him that he can never have you."

Memphis couldn't even think of Phil still having feelings for her. It was too painful.

"So you own me now? What, you get to speak for me now?"

"No."

"That's what it seems like you're trying to say. You made your little statement and you did it for the whole world to see so now everybody knows. What happens tomorrow, Ran? Huh? Just give me a little heads up so I can be prepared for what's to come. You start telling me what to wear? Who to talk to? You gonna start smacking me around?"

Randy rolled his eyes.

"Stop being so goddamned dramatic. You know it's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

She pushed him hard. She was pretty strong. No real match for him but just enough to piss him off.

"I'm not a woman beater, if that's what you're trying to get at" he looked right at her.

"May as well be. You're already a fucking coward," she spat.

Randy clenched his fists.

"Memphis, don't push me," he warned.

"Or what? What are you gonna do?"

He laughed right in her face.

"There you go again, trying to manipulate the situation, make yourself feel better. You made the choice. I didn't force you to do anything. And if you wanted to be with him, then you should have stayed. Point blank. But you chose and obviously you're still here. So the sooner you realize and accept me for who I am and that I am never gonna be Phil, the better off you will be."

"Fuck you, you unimaginable bastard. You have no right to say that to me and you know it."

"So that's what it is gonna be like the rest of night? You bitching about everything and nothing?"

"Don't you walk away from me!"

Randy just shook his head.

"I am out of here!"

"Randy! What…"

"I am not gonna sit here and fight with you all night. I am gonna get in the shower, get dressed, go get something to eat, have some drinks, maybe hit up a strip club and try to enjoy what is left of my night."

She was stunned. Memphis looked right in his eyes and he stared back, unapologetic and as serious as a heart attack. She was so enraged about him turning his back without a care that she hadn't even had time to process and subsequently flip out about the strippers.

"You son of a bitch!" she called out.

"Memphis, leave me alone," he turned his back.

Her fury and scorn was bordering on dangerous. She felt out of control. How dare he! She ran after him and grabbed him roughly by the shoulder. He was bigger and stronger and was resisting her efforts to get him to look at her. Finally, she just hauled off and punched him dead in his face.

The second her fist made contact with him, she immediately regretted it. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't have done it but her resentment wouldn't allow her to behave rationally. Still, she recoiled and whimpered at what she had done. She saw his head bounce back a little bit. There was surprise in his blue eyes. Then rage. Out of instinct that happened before he thought of himself, perhaps out of reflex, he slapped her hard. It took her off balance and she landed on their bed. Randy was a mass of every emotion you could dream of. Seeing Memphis on the bed stirred up yet one more feeling. She looked vulnerable, scared even. But it didn't matter. He would never hurt her again on purpose. In an instant, he had lost all control of self and both knew that is what she had been goading to happen. So if that was what she wanted, he was going to give it to her.

He quickly removed his short, then hovered his large framed body over her. With one hand at her throat, he used to the other slide off his shorts. He wasn't wearing any underwear, and the minute she saw him naked and rock hard, she moaned, her furied resistance turning into whimpers of desire. He pulled off her black pants and tore at her panties. He put two fingers in his mouth to get them slick before she shoved them inside her. He knew she wanted him. Memphis knew it too. But she was feisty. She had never let him get away with anything and she would be damned if she was about to start now. So she struggled against him, pushing at his arm but he only knocked it away. He spread her thighs completely apart with his knee, then plowed himself into her. She gasped, grunted, then wrapped her legs around him and begged for more.

It had been an emotion filled night. Both had been angry. But what had needed to happen had finally happened, thus allowing all of them to move on. She, they, could finally close the book on Phil Brooks. A new chapter for them was ready to begin. Randy wasn't perfect but he was perfect for her.


	65. Nothing Beats A Failure But A Try

If the buildup to Wrestlemania was filled with dreaded anticipation and stress, its aftermath had proved to be quite the opposite. It was a time to decompress when life could calm down and slowly filter back to normal. Though Phil's presence was still heavily felt backstage, there had been no interaction between he, Memphis and Randy. The overseas tour came and went without incident and Memphis could breathe a sigh of relief that the heavy cloud of darkness that seemed to hang over all of them had all but disappeared.

And things had been calm with Randy as well. He and Memphis were getting along well in their relationship, the drama seemingly behind them. The road leading up to Wrestlemania had been a turbulent one for them and she had seen a side of Randy she hadn't seen in a very long time and one she hoped she would never see again. In dark times like that, she silently contemplated if being him was the right thing, if it was even worth it. But when things were calm…good, she, they, were happy. She wanted to be with him but in the back of her mind, their troubles and his penchant for mistake making and blowing up at even the littlest things, always was high on the radar. Nevertheless as the bus barreled down the highway, a groggy Memphis raised her weary bed head and yawned.

Traveling by bus was a major perk. It was nice to stretch out. Relax. Watch some TV. Sleep. Make food. Make love. It made the drive more pleasurable when one wasn't cramped in the back of a too small, overloaded Economy sized rental car. It was nice seeing the different trees and sights and cities. And it made it even better when it was in Randy's arms.

"Hey," he rolled over.

Memphis turned to face him. He rubbed the sleep from his blue eyes and licked his lips. The thin sheet fell from his hip showing the outline of his naked male form. Randy Orton loved to sleep in the nude and that was always an exquisite sight, like one of the world's great natural wonders.

"Good morning, or shall I say afternoon."

"Come here," Randy's voice was even deeper when first waking up.

He pulled her close as they were facing. She pulled her knees up so that they rested against his bare, firm chest. His hand rested on her hip, partially covered by the covers as her sleep shirt and bunched up a little over her waist.

"Hey you," she cupped his face in her hands, her long, slender fingers stroking his face. "Did you sleep well? How's your back?"

He had landed hard during a match in the UK versus the Big Red Monster, Kane. It was nothing beyond the normal occupational hazard of nightly bumps, bruises, aches, and pains but still she worried about him.

"It's good. Honestly, the jet lag gets me more than the pain."

"I know. That tour was so crazy. I loved it. I mean, I had never been overseas before so that part was pretty awesome. Wish we'd had more time to sight see and stuff. But it's good to be back in the good old USA," she smiled.

"We got shows coming up in Miami, Tampa, and Orlando."

"Yeah."

"That's where you're from, right? Orlando?"

Memphis cleared her throat.

"Yeah, that's where I grew up."

He looked at her as she didn't elaborate.

"You gonna see your folks? Are they coming to the show?"

"Probably not."

"Memphis…" he said after a few seconds.

"What babe?"

"Nothing," he shrugged. "It's just that…I don't know. It's weird. I guess I don't know a whole lot about you aside from what I read in FHM."

She grinned as she leaned up on her elbow and kissed him.

"I am awesome and I am totally in to you. That is all you need to know."

"That's fucking awesome," he kissed her and slapped her on the behind. "But I'm serious. What's up with all the mystery?"

"You sound like a woman," she pouted.

"Babe…"

She took a deep breath.

"Fine. I am not close with my family. At all. I never see them, hardly ever talk to them. My mom and I…we're like oil and fucking water, I swear. We just don't mix. Never did. Ever since I can remember, we've been at odds. There was an always an argument about something…we just, I don't know. We never ever got along."

"And your Old Man?"

Memphis raised an eyebrow.

"Remember back when we were at odds and that time on the flight from hell together and you said I had daddy issues?"

Randy cringed.

"Look, I was an asshole…"

"It's okay."

"Actually, it's not. I remember that day pretty well, in fact and um…it never should have gone down like that. I know later on you told me I was right but it doesn't matter. I had no right to go there."

"Yeah but those days feel like a lifetime ago and we're together now so uh, you may as well know the whole story. I…wow," she took a deep breath. "Okay. My parents are just the people, that, you know, never should have been allowed to have kids. I swear to God if there was legal criteria for it, like for how you have to pass a written and road test to get a driver's license, they would have failed. Horribly. Miserably."

She gave a nervous chuckle as Randy's eyes narrowed.

"They didn't…"

Memphis already knew what he was trying to get at.

"Nah. Nothing like that, I promise. There was never any abuse or anything like that going on. My mom and I just clash a lot. We never got along. Nothing I do or did is ever good enough. And it's just argument after argument and when we're not fighting there is just this weird tension between us. She is just a really mean, really miserable person and it sucks."

"Same thing with your dad?"

"No. Quite the opposite actually. He doesn't get mad. In fact, he doesn't react to much of anything. Probably because he never wanted to be a dad and probably because my mom drives him crazy and probably because he hates his life. He is just this detached, monotone guy that doesn't care about shit. But he did watch wrestling. I remember that. That's how I started getting into it. I mean, he wasn't a super fan because it is not his personality to get real excited about anything but he watched. You remember the Saturday Night Main Events on NBC?"

"Yeah," Randy grinned. "Sometimes they came on Friday nights."

"Exactly. And we'd never miss them. So when you said I watched wrestling just to get my daddy to pay attention to me…well, it really struck a nerve at the time because you were right. It was a chance to spend time with him. And it was the only time that he paid attention to me."

Randy looked at her and genuinely felt bad.

"What about now? I mean, their daughter is a lawyer and a WWE Superstar. That's got to count for something, right?"

She sighed.

"You'd think so but um…the answer is no. They don't care."

Randy made a face.

"Memphis, come on."

"What?"

"That just, I don't know, it doesn't make sense. I mean, I had my issues and stuff with my folks. Let's say they were less than thrilled when I was crashing in their basement after I went AWOL."

"You made a mistake. They were disappointed…worried, may have even been angry for a while but the bottom line is, they had your back and you knew that they loved you no matter what."

"Memphis, your parents love you, too."

"When I was in high school, my best friend was killed," her voice sadly trailed off. "Car accident. It, it was horrible. Anyway, everyone was just in shock, you know? It was the saddest thing ever and her mom was like a mom to me and she was having such a rough time so I started spending a lot of time over there. One night, I guess I stayed too late and I had my mother's car and when I got home, she was furious. Fucking irate, I tell you. She was screaming and in my face and I just wanted her to leave me alone and I was trying to explain that I had to be there, you know, for Helen…that was the lady's name."

"What'd your mom say?"

Memphis laughed bitterly at the painful memory.

"My mother looked me right in my face and said she wished she could trade places with Helen."

Randy felt his heart catch.

"That sucks. Look, babe, she probably didn't mean it. It was still a shitty thing to say but she was just mad."

Memphis shook her head.

"She meant it. It was in her eyes. I saw it. It, it was always in her eyes."

"So it never got better when you left the house?"

"Nope."

"What about law school? Shit, my folks would have been over the moon if I had done something like that."

"They didn't give a hot fuck. At least my mom showed up at my graduation…complained the whole time. My dad didn't even bother."

"Damn."

"You know I never called them Mom and Dad?"

"Get out of here."

"I'm serious. Ever since I can remember, I guess since I could talk, they have always been David and Joanna."

"You called them that to their face? Wasn't it weird?"

"That's how they raised me."

"Man, babe…I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm not."

But she was. He could see it in her eyes. Memphis was hurt.

"You're a great person. And uh, not so long ago, I took that for granted. I was threatened…intimidated even. I was a dick. Didn't bother getting to know you, the real you. I acted a fool and I can admit it now even though I'm ashamed of it."

"Ran…"

"Hear me out. My point is, people make mistakes. People change. You gave me a second shot. What about them?"

"Apples and oranges, Randy. Besides, you wanted your second chance. They don't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I just do. I know them."

"When is the last time you talked to them?"

She shifted uncomfortably.

"I, I don't know. It's probably been a couple of years."

"Call them up."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because…"

He smirked.

"You're being stubborn."

"Since when did you start giving life advice?"

"Taking a page out of Super Cena's book, I guess."

"I'm serious."

He stroked her cheek.

"Because I care about you. I want you to be happy."

"I am happy."

"Then I guess I want you to be whole."

His choice of words took her off guard. She felt her chest tighten.

"Ran…"

"You're a wonderful person. You've definitely made my crazy life better. You are beautiful and smart and talented and successful. You worked your ass off for everything you got. Maybe it's time to show them your world. And they still might not want to be a part of it. Hell, maybe you won't want them to be a part of it but at least you would have tried. That's the worst that could happen."

Memphis was quiet for a few moments.

"And the best?" she asked in a shaky voice.

He leaned over and gave her a kiss.

"You never know until you try. So um…call them up. We'll take them out to dinner. Get them a backstage pass for the Orlando show."

Memphis nodded.

"Yeah, um…okay."

She was putting on a brave face but secretly she was terrified. There was a lot of history there. And also pain. Randy had no idea. His heart was in the right place but he truly did not know what he was messing with. Still, that touched her. Who was this man? Gentle, tender, sensitive…so interested in her life. It was like a different Randy, a welcome change from the weeks leading to and especially the night of Wrestlemania. He was a great guy and he was her guy. When they were together and he was like that, he made her feel like she could do anything. Memphis loved that feeling. In fact, she needed it. Up until that moment, she hadn't realized just how much.


End file.
